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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784753">the moment it flickers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wccmist/pseuds/wccmist'>wccmist</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxmoony/pseuds/xxmoony'>xxmoony</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band), K-pop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bribing, Dry Humping, Dystopia, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentions of Death, Occasional Blackmail, Office, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Slow Burn, government is like evil, mention of hallucinations, mentions of funeral, minor hohong, san is too nice, woo is dumb, woo is in pain, world building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:42:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>71,558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wccmist/pseuds/wccmist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxmoony/pseuds/xxmoony</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>when abandoned dreams give birth to other wounds</p><p> </p><p>or in which wooyoung and san are soulmates.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi San/Jung Wooyoung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. winter flower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Look up.”</p><p>Wooyoung opened his eyes.</p><p>A warm breeze licked his face gently along with the hushed words right beside his ear. Wild roses swayed and hummed a melody as plush fingertips patted a relaxing beat over his chest.</p><p>“Hi…” He whispered back, closed his eyes once more to revel in the feeling of warmth surrounding him, of the body fitting his own perfectly from the back, probably from the front too but-</p><p>“I’m sorry…” The man behind him said, voice velvety and familiar and right in all the wrong ways but foreign and unknown at the same time.</p><p>Wooyoung let a small smile tug at the corners of his pink lips and snuggled closer to the broad chest supporting his body. A red petal floated in the air above their heads and Wooyoung watched until it disappeared between the ending roses. “For what?”</p><p>“That you have to go through this.”</p><p>“No.” He whispered back, closed his eyes, just in case, as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, smelled the beautiful roses along with warm skin. “There is nothing you can do. Just stay this way.”</p><p>The man stayed.</p><p>The man stayed until golden sunrays warming the petals to mix a magical scent warped into empty darkness, stayed until the calming breeze faded into the sticky layer of sweat over his aching skin, stayed until Wooyoung was not engulfed in the cotton shirt of the man that he didn’t even know the color of, but the cold tiles and stray papers.</p><p>Wooyoung opened his eyes once again.</p><p>What welcomed him was not the preferable field of wild roses swaying around under the late noon sun, but the stacks of cabinets full of files as the dim lighting, along with the dizziness caused by the buzzing under his skin, obscured his vision annoyingly.</p><p>He quickly checked his watch, hazily counted about twenty minutes since he walked in and locked the door after himself, silently cursed under his breath as the air he drew into his lungs burned its way inside too. He was still on the clock, was probably still required to run around and deliver the correct files he was supposed to deliver half an hour ago, not lay down on the floor of the very room he had to obtain the files from.</p><p>Another sharp wave of pain took him off guard as it stabbed him right where his ribs ended, consequent of his white shirt rubbing over his skin a bit too harsh, and Wooyoung clenched his teeth as he peeled a piece of paper stuck to his face on his way up over his feet. That action, too, hurt unbearably.</p><p>His arms were full of files that he remembered were needed to be delivered as he unlocked the door and left the crumped and insufficiently lit room that smelt too much of paper and ink.</p><p>As he walked through the office, between tons of people that did not even acknowledge him as he left files on their desks, visibly distracted with something else that happened in the office while Wooyoung was mostly unconscious on the file room floor, and got invisible papercuts every time he touched anything but only clenched his teeth. Only half an hour more and it would be the lunch break. It was okay.</p><p>“Did you hear about the assistant regional manager?” He heard someone say when he put the last two files over the desk of someone he barely knew as head of sales as.</p><p>“What? Did he faint again?” Another person said as Wooyoung turned over his heels to find his own cubicle that maybe bore a kind of comfort, a comfort that he could be content with only the casual stinging caused by the rubbing of his clothes over his skin.</p><p>“Tumbled down like a leaf. Everyone thought he broke his nose but seems it wasn’t the case.” Wooyoung excused himself between another two coworkers heatedly gossiping about the same matter. Two steps later their voices blended into the whirring of the city outside.</p><p>“Congratulations, San-ssi!” A tall woman with long black hair chirped with an overexcited clap of her petite hands just when Wooyoung thought he found his serenity amidst the chaos that was the office. A crude man that stood next to her and occasionally sent the woman inappropriate looks when he had the opportunity shook his head with an affirming nod. “Yes, San-ah, you know what they say. Anything over 90 percent is bound to be magical.” He emphasized his words with exaggerated arm movements like he was scared they would get lost in the white noise of the office place.</p><p>Wooyoung scoffed, the sound effortlessly blending into their pointless chattering.</p><p>
  <em> Right, magical. </em>
</p><p>Choi San smiled shyly as he looked at the transparent tablet that showed 97% written boldly in red beside the mugshot-like photo of some woman.</p><p>“Hyung~, stop that…”</p><p>“San-ssi is getting embarrassed because of you, Kim-ssi.” The woman with the catlike eyes that were accentuated with a wing too long for its own good said as she filled her plastic cup from the water dispenser they all unironically circled around. “Please refrain from creating uncomfortable environments in the office.”</p><p>The alleged Kim-ssi tied his arms over his chest with a pout too immature for his build. “Noona, when will you stop being mean to me?”</p><p>“We’re in a workplace, stop being informal to your colleagues.”</p><p>“Is this about the donut I stole this morning? I swear I will get you another tomorrow.”</p><p>“Please refrain from speaking to me, Kim-ssi.” The woman said with the most monotonous voice she could muster as she leaned the rim of the plastic cup to her red lips and walked away. The tall woman tried to console Kim-ssi as Choi San laughed at all of them in amusement and a bell that signified the end of their break gently rang over their useless chatter.</p><p>Wooyoung shifted slightly from where he watched them, without a word, and felt the rubbing of his clothes against his skin where he leaned his hip, a little too deeply.</p><p><em> Normal </em> , he thought as Choi San walked towards him with a questioning smile that was too professional as he tucked his tablet under his arm and put his hand in his pocket, <em> this should be the normal </em>.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Wooyoung-ssi?” His smile transformed into one that was too friendly for Wooyoung’s liking, too friendly like it always tended to be, like Choi San was the epitome of cordiality.</p><p>Wooyoung hated it.</p><p>The fabric shifted over his skin uncalled and he bit his tongue not to scream out annoyed.</p><p>Unraveling his arms over his chest, Wooyoung kicked his way up his desk and did his best not to wince when he picked up the folder that laid right beside him on the desk with a half eye roll.</p><p>“Nothing.” Wooyoung despised it. “I will be going back to work, manager.”</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung liked the lunchbreak.</p><p>People started to disappear one by one before it was time since everyone liked some extra break, for some a couple minutes and for others about half an hour, but no matter how much everyone tried their best to beat their previous day’s score of annoying him, Wooyoung usually waited for the clock to show exactly 12:00 pm to grab his packed lunch and go sit on the roof where no one can bother him for at least an hour.</p><p>He liked the sun hitting his face freely without burning too much or too little, was aggravated by the wind brushing over his skin and sometimes making his clothes switch around too much and rub but it was nice, nonetheless. Little people, birds chirping, fresh air provided by the huge air conditioners under the even huger dome that made up their perfect sky because it was 2104 and humankind was not exactly kindest to mother earth. Or they believed so.</p><p>Wooyoung knew most of the shit on this side of the wall was rubbish anyways.</p><p>Today, on the other hand, was apparently <em> annoy Wooyoung day </em>, because before ten minutes from the break the familiar oh-so-friendly figure approached him once more.</p><p>“Are we on bad terms, Wooyoung-ssi?” Choi San said and did not even let Wooyoung open his mouth as he went on. “I’m kind of offended that I didn’t get a congratulation earlier but, I’m treating a few people lunch for celebration. I was wondering if you would like to come?”</p><p>Wooyoung looked at the man with the annoyingly bright smile and dimples that did nothing but add to the annoying factor. Choi San liked to be the office’s beaming sunrays, liked to help even the artificial sun outside in warming up people without even expecting anything in return. Could he want anything from an artificial sun anyways? Probably not. Wooyoung left it at that.</p><p>It was pretty known that Choi San didn’t really care if a person is an intern or a manager as long as they were half decent, as Wooyoung observed and concluded. He also thought that he wasn’t falling into any of the categories under being decent whatsoever during the time period that he worked here. But the man relentlessly kept trying to be friends with him, or whatever his overly earnest behavior meant.</p><p>“Ah, well, it’s nothing personal, really, I just don’t believe in the whole soulmate thing.” He tried and maybe succeeded in hiding the venom to his voice, but San’s smile already diminished a little before he could finish.</p><p>“Oh, I didn’t think you were one of those… Didn’t you ever take the test?”</p><p>Wooyoung wanted to roll his eyes and maybe sigh deeply at the t-word, not only because he thought that the test was the most ridiculous thing ever but because San seemed to be too into the idea of the test, as if the test actually meant something other than numbers.</p><p>“I didn’t.” He said, plain and simple with an insincere smile breaking the tension he couldn’t help creating. Choi San did not waste a second to bless the office with his 1k pearl white teeth once more.</p><p>“Anyways, so, about the lunch? What do you say, will you join us?”</p><p>“No, thank you.” He said without missing a beat and letting the man think he was considering it as he looked at Wooyoung with so much anticipation that his skin crawled with a feeling that was not the normal one. “I brought mine from home, don’t really want it to go to waste.” He simply added, a firm smile accompanying his hope that the man would leave him alone now.</p><p>“Oh, I understand. But how is everything going, Wooyoung-ssi? We haven’t talked in a while.”</p><p>Wooyoung wondered how him simply answering Choi San’s attempt at a casual talk with one-worded sentences and him wouldn’t even noticing the other’s unwillingness was considered talking for the longest of times, but San probably thought they were having a normal conversation now too. Wooyoung decided to cut him some slack this time.</p><p>“It’s good. Job, home, job… You know, the routine.” He said, carefully trying to choose more than one word to say and make them sound like they were not consisting of telling him to go and fuck himself somewhere out of Wooyoung’s sight. Choi San’s smile was not a pleased one anyways. “You should leave probably San-ssi, they are waiting,” Wooyoung said when he caught the water dispenser squad impatiently stealing glances towards the cubicle of the emo kid that somehow got to be an intern at The OPE co. (aka the biggest soulmate testing company) and why was Choi San even associating himself with someone like that? Or something. Wooyoung was sure he heard the exact words multiple times when they thought he was not around.</p><p>“Right, have a nice lunch Wooyoung-ssi.” Choi San said as he too turned his head to take a glance at the way Kim-ssi obnoxiously waved him over. Of course all of them were the type to leave early.</p><p>“You too.” Wooyoung said.</p><p> </p><p>The unmatched hatred towards Choi San was not always there the same way.</p><p>First of all, yes, Choi San was always too affiliated with anyone in the office to the extent he would consider each and every person he met and exchanged more than two words his friend, with little to no exceptions, but Wooyoung was not sure he witnessed him trying for anyone that did not want to be considered the same way as much as he tried for Wooyoung.</p><p>Second of all, hating Choi San was not something so unexpected for Wooyoung since every single person in the office was self-entitled selfish bastards, and Wooyoung only assumed and accepted San as one too, no hard feelings, at least not personally.</p><p>It would’ve been all good and dandy if it wasn’t for The pool incident.</p><p>If Choi San was not even more self-entitled than anyone Wooyoung had ever seen.</p><p>OPE co. had business trips for every single event they had, big or small, very important or completely arbitrary, the whole company liked to go to luxury hotels and fine diners to spend some time away from the office and the raging pile of people waiting to be matched with their alleged soulmates and grant them their own happy ever after or whatever.</p><p>Wooyoung, surely, during his 4 months of working there, came to hate the trips to their roots too.</p><p>4 months of avoiding all the invitations sent his way that he dodged elegantly with <em> I am not feeling so well, </em> or <em> I need to visit my family this weekend </em>, a certain someone, and an important one at that, told him he was being too obvious with the excuses and maybe this time he shouldn’t turn it down so quickly, told him it would be okay and it was only for one time so people would shut up about how he was so secretive about himself all the time and how he never let anyone get closer than even half a meter.</p><p>Sure, Wooyoung had very valid reasons not to want anyone in his close radius, let alone going to fun trips with them, but at the same time, all his life, it was such a foreign concept to be spending so much on his own personal pleasure, no matter if it was completely on the company or someone else, Wooyoung was ultimately repulsed by the idea, for reasons that called him in the middle of a fancy dinner that night.</p><p>“Noona, I’m kinda busy right now.” He hissed into the receiver with a kick to his chair and swift steps towards the gold-plated beams that led the red carpet into the luxury main hall.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, why weren’t you picking up your phone?” The voice across the line said, sweet to the point Wooyoung felt a tooth or two ache. “Noona needs you.”</p><p>Wooyoung lowered his head as multiple heads around the large hall turned around to glance at him and his feet mindlessly wandered around with the sole instinct to just <em> hide </em>. “I’m busy, noona, stop calling me every thirty seconds.”</p><p>“Is that the way to greet your favorite sister, Wooyoungie?”</p><p>Wooyoung scratched where his white shirt rubbed a bit harder, indifferent to the way it already felt like small needles being poked everywhere it touched his skin and wanted to crawl into a hole and scream momentarily when his own fingers set fire to his back. “You're my only sister, definitely not favorite either.”</p><p>“Stop being a smart ass, I need money.” Jiyoung hissed back, dropping the sweet façade suddenly like some dramatic villain and Wooyoung could only do so much as roll his eyes, not even surprised as he checked around to see blue tiles before him.</p><p>“I sent you money a week ago, you know, when I got my paycheck. What makes you think I have more?” Clearwater danced around in the huge rectangle where it was artificially gathered, like it was mocking him for being so pathetic. Wooyoung could hear the faint echo of another voice as the white noise of the fun outside but could not see anyone else between the 4 walls.</p><p>“You see, Wooyoungie, I don't really care, but stop acting like you don’t spare some just in case. It’s urgent.”</p><p>Footsteps took a rhythm somewhere not too close or too far away but somehow Wooyoung did not mind. “I don’t have any left!” He spat into the receiver, gave in to the suffocating feeling accompanied by the increasing sharpness of the needles anywhere his clothes were over his body and checked to see if anyone heard him raising his voice only 2 decibels, continued lowering it 5 more. “You said it will be monthly, what the fuck happened?”</p><p>The line was silent for the following ten seconds. “Noona?” Wooyoung pressed, already getting sick and tired of the whole situation. “That's none of your business.” was the monotonous response he got.</p><p>“Then you’re not getting a dime, not that I have any.”</p><p>“I..” Jiyoung started, took a deep, defeated sigh. “We got scammed, okay? The stuff turned out to be weaker than I wanted, now I’m left with nothing.”</p><p>Wooyoung closed his eyes, tried to ignore the headache threatening to go full-on, adding up to the already existent burning of his skin and irritating him to the point he did not think was even possible.  He summarized all of his annoyance as a simple, heartfelt “I hate you.” in the form of a growl.</p><p>“And I love you baby brother!” Jiyoung chirped. “Don’t forget, till Friday or else, bye!”</p><p>The long beeping coming from the speaker, too, felt like it was mocking him as he opened his mouth to maybe yell at her to fuck herself but was cut off crudely. Wooyoung squeezed his phone between his bony fingers paying no mind to how much it stung at the edges, wanted to throw it across the room to watch it crack into pieces on the tiles but forced himself against it, since that action too would draw too much unnecessary attention. Drawing attention was the last thing he could afford to do as he wanted to scratch every bit of his skin off and scream at the top of his lung simultaneously. He turned around to maybe do it at his room where he would be relatively safer, no peeping eyes and no judging looks.</p><p>He missed to check where his foot would land after a step, though.</p><p>The warm water that mocked him moments ago for being so paranoid about everything split under his weight to engulf his whole body with a loud splash and all Wooyoung could do before water forced every last bit of air inside his lungs out was a pathetic gasp parting his shocked lips.</p><p>In the milliseconds worth of a time period he was in the air Wooyoung realized two things: One, for obvious reasons, he didn’t know how to swim, and two, out of the habit of living in the corners unnoticed, he did not even scream before he landed into the water.</p><p>The third thing he consecutively realized was that <em> it hurt </em>.</p><p>Everything he touched turned into little needles ready to poke his skin unannounced on a daily basis and Wooyoung never tried to swim before in his 22 years of breathing because he knew. The water swallowed his whole body and at first, it felt like it was too cold, then too hot and as water soaked his skin it scratched and scratched until nothing but blood and flesh were left behind. Wooyoung knew even water was no exception.</p><p>The faint silhouette of something approaching was the last thing Wooyoung saw as water clogged his lungs and his vision turned black, either from the lack of oxygen or the excruciating pain crippling his limbs.</p><p>The next thing he knew, he was laying down between silk sheets and chiffon drapes in a dimly lit room he realized was his own hotel room after ten seconds of staring around. As the haze slowly cleared off he recognized none other than Jeong Yunho sitting beside his bed, the faint taste of chlorine at the back of his mouth and Hongjoong walking into the room with a bowl full of water for his fever.</p><p>It was Choi San.</p><p>The silhouette belonged to Choi San and he witnessed Wooyoung suffering in the pool, got him out and gave him CPR uninformed until Hongjoong and Yunho arrived and realized Wooyoung couldn’t breathe not because he still had water floating in lungs but because his whole body was on fire with the pain of his attack triggered by the water.</p><p>Wooyoung might’ve been careless and exposed everything right then and there just because Choi San decided to be nosy and save his life and he could end it in the same sentence.</p><p>The next morning when Choi San decided to show up at his door to kindly ask how he was, Wooyoung decided he hated the self-entitled assistant regional manager more than anyone now.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung was not sure how he ended up in the meeting room with a pen and a notebook in his hands, along with 5 other interns all trying to copy everything onto the paper at the speed a human hand was capable of, maybe even faster because otherwise they would get yelled at.</p><p>“Jung Wooyoung, you are called to join the PR meeting in five minutes.” One random coworker that Wooyoung saw was hiding beers in his last drawer told him without paying much heed to it, walking away before Wooyoung could question why the office assistant would be called to a meeting, and a PR one at that.</p><p>At first, he did not think much of it, since the problem simply could’ve been a shortage of interns and he was basically a promoted intern with the only difference of gaining a couple more grand a month. He took a notebook, a pen and all of his courage as he walked through the door of the big meeting room but lost the last one mid-step.</p><p>The whole company was there.</p><p>The sales department, accounting people, every single assistant Wooyoung has ever seen in the building and their managers, even Jeong Yunho, the CFO was sitting there at one of the best parts of the huge meeting table, and-</p><p>Was that Choi San sitting at the edge of the oak table with his elbows leaning over it?</p><p>“Take your seats, ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to start.” The long-haired woman from the water dispenser squad said with utmost professionalism etched onto her voice and everyone in the room slowly ceased their casual chitchat. Wooyoung took his place beside the interns stressfully gazing around the room and thought, <em> honestly, same </em>.</p><p>“As you know, OPE co., aka One’s Promised Evaluation Co., is the largest soulmate matching company available to the public right now.” She looked around the room as Wooyoung internally cringed at the reminder of what OPE co. stood for. He saw the interns take notes of the sentence and felt sorry for their misery.</p><p>Yoo Kwan, as Wooyoung bothered to read her nametag when the ridiculously long hair did not cover it, kept her ment about how the company still had competition and they needed renovative ideas and strategies to maintain their monopoly going for about 10 minutes without actually saying anything and Wooyoung, this time, felt bad for the other 25 people sitting around the big oak table all forced to stand too serious for their own good. He stole a subtle glance at Yunho and his obnoxious peach-colored hair and kept doodling little flowers at the corner of his page when he saw he was listening to every word of the woman in front of the translucent board, now colorful with various data shown in the form of nice-looking charts and graphics.</p><p>“This is why,” Kim-ssi the-sexual-tension-man started when Yoo Kwan finished her speech with a polite bow of her head and sat down where the man previously left vacant. “we are presenting you this strategy.”</p><p>Wooyoung stopped doodling the wild rose and raised his head to see what finally seemed to be worth giving attention.</p><p>“Kang Sora.” The man said with too much enthusiasm as the board behind his huge shoulder changed to a woman’s detailed profile, like the ones Wooyoung saw when he was given the database tasks.</p><p>97% percent was what was written in bold red at the right corner of the screen.</p><p>“A few weeks ago, our databases matched the highest score in the history of soulmate evaluation for one of our coworkers, Choi San.” Everyone clapped when the man barely finished his words like it were some runway show and Choi San looked around the room with a modest smile and a couple of reserved nods. Wooyoung felt his skin crawl at the insincerity of the situation.</p><p>“After a serious discussion with all the parties involved, we have come to the decision to show our respectable manager and his lovely soulmate as the prime example of our immaculate and unmatched database.” Another clapping ceremony after excited <em> ooh </em> s and <em> ah </em>s filled the room of swindlers and Wooyoung almost lost his interest once again.</p><p>“In fact, Kang Sora-ssi is waiting for us just outside the door. Shall our precious assistant manager bring her in?” Wooyoung could see Choi San smiling shyly with a small nod as he scrambled on foot from the corner of his eye along with the whole room starting to whisper about how he was nervous and how it was endearing. “Open the door, please,” Kim-ssi said deliberately pointing at Wooyoung who wasn’t even closest to the door but behaved before too much attention would be directed at him before Choi San could walk too close. A slightly attractive young woman of average height and donning expensive clothing head to toe slowly and elegantly walked into the meeting room along with the assistant manager only seconds later as everyone watched and counted her every single step carefully. Wooyoung immediately did not like her aura as she clicked her heels in.</p><p>“Kang Sora-ssi, everyone.” Kim-ssi introduced like her name was not brought up 20 times in 2 seconds and everyone around the table kindly bowed at her, to which she responded with a small head bow. Her eyes wandered around the room until they took each and every person in like she was getting ready to plan a special attack in a matter of seconds until she started shaking hands with the directors and managers, some pretentious act.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, I’m Kang Sora.” She said with the sweetest high voice that apparently fooled anyone but Wooyoung in the room. “I look forward to working with you.”</p><p>The thirsty bloodsuckers smiled until their cheeks broke into their smile with the unusual kindness that wasn’t so easy to find and Kang Sora stopped when she shook hands with the last one to take a good look at Wooyoung.</p><p>“Ah, you.” Her smile stuttered, then bloomed once more with the same fakeness. “Who were you again?”</p><p>Wooyoung debated on sparing her some of his words and actually answering, knowing what he said didn’t really matter to the woman before him but would ick the fuck out of the rest of the room if he did not, so he decided that maybe-</p><p>“A mere assistant.” Kim-ssi interrupted right when he opened his mouth. “Not anyone important.”</p><p>Wooyoung shut his lips into a tight line. Kang Sora looked at him with satisfaction and mischief in her eyes, but masked it all with an incredulous gasp just before she turned around. “Just because he is an assistant doesn’t mean he is unimportant, mister, I beg your pardon. What would you do without assistants around the workspace?”</p><p>She turned her head back towards Wooyoung, a fake ass smile he came to despise in a matter of seconds spread all around her face. “We didn’t start on great terms this morning, but, it’s very nice to meet you.” Her hand outstretched to obviously request a handshake.</p><p><em> Of course </em>, Wooyoung thought as the memories of earlier in the day came rushing in, of course it was the bitch that bumped into him like a fucking truck and proceeded to try to scold him like she didn’t scatter every single file flying around as Wooyoung felt like his right arm was chopped off and put into a grinder while his nerves were still attached.</p><p>“Um, he doesn’t do touching.” One of the interns said quietly but enough for the dead silence to deliver it all around the room and squeeze a giggle or two from the other interns standing besides, a hum and a nod from the people around the table. The woman raised her eyebrows only a millimeter expectantly.</p><p>Damn, Wooyoung <em> despised </em> Kang Sora.</p><p>“Nice to meet you.” He said with the best voice he could muster as he was getting more and more crushed under the twenty-something pair of eyes all waiting for him to reject the handshake, but he did not. He raised his hand, looked straight into Kang Sora’s mocking eyes and proceeded with it.</p><p>Everything was completely okay other than the fact that his hand was poked by a million invisible needles as they swayed their hands once in the air to secure whatever the fuck this was, but then Kang Sora decided it was not enough torture and gave Wooyoung a firm squeeze.</p><p>Wooyoung dropped his notebook on the floor with a dry thud in front of the whole room as the feeling equal to all of his bones breaking spread all throughout his arm.</p><p>“Shall we proceed with the meeting?” He heard Yunho say from where he was sitting almost immediately after the awkward thud and the room slowly shook off the awkward silence making the air stick to everyone’s lungs uncomfortably. Kang Sora retracted her hand with a satisfied smile and a small head bow as Wooyoung swiftly ducked down to get his notebook, the doodle of wild roses mocking him insufferably. He ignored the pain that did not go away but magnified for a couple more seconds as he stepped back to stand beside other interns.</p><p>Choi San and Kang Sora took their seats not at where San’s previous chair was but in front of the board like it was some showcase and they were some products. About another half an hour of Kim-ssi explaining that they had assembled a new team just for this project and how impactful it was aimed to be and Wooyoung literally dancing on the brink of fainting from pain 5 times until it returned to the normal level of annoying, Wooyoung decided it was time he bailed. It wasn’t like he didn’t have access to all the data from the meeting after and Kim-ssi was basically wrapping up the meeting so there was literally no reason that he had to keep standing there and witness the shitshow the company was preparing just to trick more people into taking their useless fraud of a test. He didn’t even know why they called him to be present for other than the sole purpose of creating an ego-boosting crowd and embarrassing him in front of the whole company.</p><p>It was when he was almost about to tiptoe his way out of the door metaphorically guarded by the other 5 interns and other people getting ready to leave in the midst of the presenters thanking everyone for listening, tried not to touch anyone or anything and make the situation worse for himself, that he heard his own name being called out, loud and clear, and froze on the spot, heart thumping in his chest anxiously.</p><p>“Yes?” Wooyoung murmured as he felt all pair of eyes on his back before he even turned around to see Kim-ssi smiling a professional smile at him.</p><p>“Can you hold on for a second?” The man asked gently amidst the chaos of people trying to break free from the meeting room, with a hand gesture towards Wooyoung that felt every itty bitty rubbing of clothing over his skin at that moment as they stuck to it with the cold sweat that also drew painful lines over his back. <em> Did they figure it out? </em> He thought frantically. <em> Was I too obvious? Is it all over? </em></p><p>“Sure.” He meekly whispered, tried to catch his breath and not look like he was about to break down simultaneously. He could hear one or whispers about how he was finally done for as every step felt like daggers peeling his feet off.</p><p>Kim-ssi and Yoo Kwan both were enthusiastically talking with the infamous soulmates about something that Wooyoung was not able to catch with the constant anxious buzzing of his ears but Yunho was right beside the little crowd and had one of his cocky smiles on his face, which was confusing, like anything Yunho ever did, but told him that maybe it wasn’t what he thought it was.</p><p>“You are being promoted as Choi San-ssi’s assistant for this project, Jung Wooyoung-ssi.” The man said when he was done pampering up the project, contradicting every possibility Wooyoung could ever think, just as he suspected. He gulped slowly, felt his throat threaten to contradict. “Assistant? Me?” He asked, still unsure and absolutely sure about the fact that he wanted to run out of the door screaming instead of being that.</p><p>“Yes!” Kim-ssi said like no one was aware of the fact that Wooyoung was 5 seconds away from anxiety fainting. “Congratulations on the promotion.”</p><p>The whole room started whispering in a language his brain was too occupied to understand and all he could see at that moment was Choi San’s piercing gaze over him.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you responsible for this?” Wooyoung hissed when no one was left in the meeting room and he finally saw Yunho walking down the corridor with his hands in his pockets, humming a melody Wooyoung had no idea about.</p><p>“Well, they <em> did </em> ask me about it...” He said with a dismissive shrug and Wooyoung pointed an accusatory finger at his stupid face.</p><p>“Yunho, you know I can’t-” He started with a hiss but stopped when someone walked past them with ears too inclined. Yunho greeted the person with a small bow of his head as Wooyoung took an exhausted breath.</p><p>“You know I despise the man, why would you even suggest this?” He whisper-shouted as soon as he made sure no one else was around. “Not even only that- How am I supposed to be someone’s assistant when you-know-what-the-fuck?”</p><p>Yunho rolled his eyes with a somewhat serious scowl to his lips. “It’s going to be okay. You got promoted.” He got one of his hands out of his pocket to comb his fingers through his bleached hair like the annoying prick he was. “You can always use the extra money.”</p><p>“I don’t need extra money.” Wooyoung spat with a scowl even deeper when he heard the obvious implication in Yunho’s voice. Yunho did not say anything for the following 10 seconds.</p><p>“Anyways.” He started just as Wooyoung deliberately tried to stab daggers with his eyes on the tiles under their feet, his voice high enough to emphasize the change of the subject. “Hyung sent his regards, told you to visit soon.”</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes so hard he almost got a headache. “Stop trying. I’m not joining your little rebel club.” He grumbled, turned around to leave stomping like a 3-year-old.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” Yunho called out when he took 1 step forward. Wooyoung turned around glare a hole on his forehead. “I know you can do it.”</p><p>Wooyoung walked away with a sigh as heavy as his heart.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung despised being an assistant.</p><p>Being an office assistant was not as hard as people seemed to think it was. It consisted of Wooyoung delivering people their required files, maybe their coffees and taking out the trash, or filling in for interns if there was a shortage, whatever it was it never required direct human contact and even allowed Wooyoung to chill out at the fire escape stairs if he wanted a fresh puff of air and when it’s not windy.</p><p>But being a personal assistant was the worst thing he had ever experienced in his life.</p><p>Probably not, thinking how shitty it was, but it was up there.</p><p>First of all, no matter what he had to get up, more like drag himself off of his bed at 5 am, get ready without wanting to scream in pain, gather all the documents of the previous day and wait for the private ride Choi San sent him like the rich prick he was, sit in a car for half an hour without squirming too much as the scenery changed from his rundown street to the high-end penthouses the longer they rode.</p><p>He could be okay with getting up when even the sun did not know the morning came, or even with the annoying necessity to dress neater and shave a bit closer, hell, even not being able to sit even a second and run around all day. But communicating and having someone around every second of his work hours was not okay, maybe was even dangerous.</p><p>Having Kang Sora around, on the other hand, was somehow even worse.</p><p>“Hold this.” Wooyoung heard Kang Sora say just before the dead weight of a designer bag was tossed between his arms as his nerves momentarily thought both of them were cut off mercilessly by an electric saw.</p><p>He looked at the mountain of files, his own bag and the designer bag as Kang Sora walked away to chitter chat with some photographer perfecting his props.</p><p>It was one of the PR days.</p><p>Wooyoung absolutely wrote the exact number of it somewhere in his journal, but it was one the very common photoshoots they seemed to have ever since the meeting about 2 weeks ago, to make the public believe in The Choi San and Kang Sora’s unmatchable 97 percent match rate.</p><p>Wooyoung was standing amidst the chaos of about 15 people trying to last minute touch up the fancy sofa they would be using for whatever purpose they would be using it, or choosing which hand-knitted sweater a boy Wooyoung had no idea about was going to wear, or correcting Kang Sora’s lips probably reddened by the blood of her enemies. Choi San was nowhere to be seen, even though it was made very clear he was Choi San’s personal assistant, in charge of business about Choi San and probably buying him coffee.</p><p>If he liked it. They hadn’t had enough time for Wooyoung to learn if San liked coffee.</p><p>Wooyoung sighed slowly as he silently prayed no one during their necessary rushing bumped into him and caused every patch of skin covering his body aching painfully ache even more just to challenge if he would sob.</p><p>“San-ssi’s assistant?” Someone said from his left and Wooyoung had to adjust to see past the pile in his arms.</p><p>“Yes?” He said earnest just enough so that the smile on the stranger’s face did not fade into a scowl like it tended to do. Wooyoung learned he needed to at least look like he had a will to live so people did not act so repulsed by the idea of interacting with him. How to Be an Assistant list at the back of his assistant journal, number 3. Number 1 was <em>do not hate Choi San</em>, which he was yet to achieve.</p><p>“Um, excuse me but you need to take a look at something…” The young woman probably slightly younger than Wooyoung, sharing the rocky paths of assistantship along with him said with concerned gazes at the clutter propped up against his face, more painfully than she probably thought so, and Wooyoung nodded slowly, careful enough not to drop anything. “Sure. Is there something wrong with the process arrangement?”</p><p>“No, no!” The woman opposed strongly like she refused to give Wooyoung more burden than he seemed to carry as she dodged someone passing by in a hurry. “It’s something mild about some wardrobe change and posing-” Wooyoung was not lucky to have enough vision to do the same as the person bumped into him like a dozen of rocks rolling from a cliff. The white flashes of pain floated in front of his eyes until he realized he was on his knees with everything he was supposed to be carrying around him and on the floor along with shreds of glass that he figured belonged to a bottle, probably one in Kang Sora’s ridiculously huge bag. <em> Fuck </em> , he thought, <em> so much for being a nonproblematic assistant. </em></p><p>He didn’t realize until the painful pressure of his ears feeling underwater that everyone around was looking at him with either confused, bemused or disgusted stares, halting whatever they were in the midst of doing and catching the pity show just for shits and giggles. Wooyoung heard someone ask if he was okay, diverted his gaze on the floor to try and gather everything back into his hold and get up but it hurt so much and everyone was staring at him expectantly and his heart was beating so fast but he-</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi?” He heard the familiar voice say right beside his ear, too close for his anxiety-driven brain to handle so he was startled. That action itself, too, hurt greatly as Choi San blinked at him, eye level and all. “Are you okay? What are you doing on the floor?”</p><p>Wooyoung looked at him, the way he crouched down as his expensive shirt crinkled in protest, the way his hair was slicked back to look as neat as possible and the way his thousand-dollar white teeth still mocked him in a gentle, maybe concerned smile and Wooyoung wanted to puke. “Chillin’, how about you?”</p><p>Choi San dared to <em> giggle </em> at him -still gross and smack worthy- as he swiftly got up on his feet and reached a hand for him to use as he maybe finally got off the floor. “Come on, let’s tell someone to clean this off.” Wooyoung only stared at it for about five seconds before he completely ignored the generosity and stood up to save Kang Sora’s now drenched in some shady liquid that absolutely smelled like rotting corpses that were around for a bit too long. Wooyoung crinkled his nose in disgust.</p><p>“Whose bag is that?” Choi San asked as Wooyoung was about to touch the questionable fluid flooding the bag. Everyone else returned to do whatever they were doing before Wooyoung fell down dramatically and caused a scene. “Kang Sora-ssi’s.” He replied simply, then thought <em> shit, did I make any sound? Did I stupidly moan or something? </em></p><p>“Why is Sora’s bag-” San started, a little too confused for Wooyoung’s liking because why would he be? Wasn’t carrying around useless things and someone’s expensive bag what assistants did?</p><p>“Choi San-ssi, we’re about to start!” Someone yelled over Wooyoung’s second guessing and San gawped for a second in the direction the voice came, then smiled at Wooyoung having a stare-off with the atrocious liquid travelling in veins towards his feet. “It’s okay, Wooyoung-ssi. I will find someone to clean this, don’t touch any of it.”</p><p>Wooyoung waited until Choi San was out of his sight and still picked up the stray files that got stepped on when people were too busy to care, listened to the director telling them to pose like this or like that for minutes he did not like to count, told people to step around the glass as he waited for someone to come and clean it but of course, no. No one did, because, like he thought, it was his job.</p><p>What was Choi San’s privileged rich ass was thinking?</p><p>It was when everyone around started to leave one by one that Wooyoung finally stopped feeling the unbearable dread weighing him down and finally walked away from the mess he created to find a broom or something useful that he could get his hands on in Choi San’s too high end for an assistant manager house.</p><p>Right, Wooyoung was definitely way past the point of being astonished by wealth, even when he was thrown into this side of the wall by the filthy hands of his hyung, he always saw is as dirty and despicable, something to be ashamed of, a privilege; but his logical thinking told him that Choi San’s wealth was absolutely not someone in his position and age could easily make, not if he didn’t stray into the way of illegality.</p><p>Did Choi San sell drugs with that smile of his? Did he traffic? Or worse, did he go outside the wall?</p><p><em> Probably not </em>, Wooyoung brushed it off as he opened a door that surprisingly led him to an antique room.  </p><p>Choi San was, once again, nowhere around to be seen, so Wooyoung was free to do some snooping because while it was not his first time in the house, as countless days of listening to Kang Sora’s pointless nagging as she splayed out on Choi San’s couch like it was free real estate and Choi San’s sleepless nights because of this whole project to turn both their bodies into money printing machines, it was definitely the first time he achieved this kind of freedom. Wooyoung slowly walked inside the room, looked around for anything small enough and something that would be worthy that he might maybe take with him without being too obvious about it, without any hassle laid his eyes on a small gold plated box that probably had little to no use, but hey, that was rich people for you. They had antique rooms full of useless stuff on this side of the wall while other people suffered and rotted on the other side. Choi San was, without a doubt, no exception.</p><p>Wooyoung skillfully hid the box inside his inner pocket with the delicacy of years of experience to his hand movements and almost did not care about the burning of his clothes over his skin when he got too cocky as he turned around to leave, but froze on the spot when another body was blocking his way out. Wooyoung did not scream, no, he was not like that. But he gasped so hard his throat ached in protest.</p><p>“Hello.” The boy from earlier that was frantically being chosen a sweater to wear stood under the ledge, a smile Wooyoung absolutely could not decipher twisting his pink lips. <em> Thank fuck you chose this one</em>, Wooyoung thought to himself, <em> the other sweater was hideous. </em></p><p>“I was just- Um-” Wooyoung stuttered, his hand mindlessly pointing at the room behind them and gulped as he realized he kind of had no way out of this. The boy was literally standing there as Wooyoung pocketed <em> gold</em>.</p><p>“I am Choi Jongho.” The boy said, relaxed, but a smile too wicked for Wooyoung’s taste curved his pink lips as doe eyes felt like they stared into your soul. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”</p><p>Wooyoung’s eyes widened in shock as he realized the only Choi Jongho he mildly heard about was- “You’re my brother’s personal assistant, after all.”</p><p>“Ah.” Wooyoung lowered his arm still pointlessly hanging in the air with a nervous laugh. The ugly presence of his clothes over his flaring skin was even more annoying at the moment. “Hi. Nice to meet you?”</p><p>Choi Jongho smiled and for a second Wooyoung was in awe at how different two brothers’ smiles could feel. “I know what you did back there, Jung Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked. “I-”</p><p>“Oh, Jongho-yah, what are you doing here? Mother and father are waiting.” Wooyoung heard the same voice he normally felt repulsed to and instead felt relief coursing through his aching body. Choi Jongho deepened the smile that gave Wooyoung the creeps at the sight of San walking closer and almost whispered, sultry and provocative.</p><p>“It’s okay. It will be our little secret.” Venom clung to the tip of the boy’s tongue, a set of goosebumps joined the rubbing of his clothes and Wooyoung almost whimpered under the pressure of everything combined. He could see Choi San stopped with a scowl contorting his porcelain skin. “What sec-”</p><p>Wooyoung tried to put a smile on his own face but probably looked ridiculous enough that San’s scowl got even more confused. “Wooyoung-ssi? What are you doing here?”</p><p>All that came out of his mouth was useless air as Wooyoung gaped, open and close like a confused goldfish -or not, could goldfishes get confused?- as he looked for the most logical response to what he would be doing in the antique room of his manager when no one else was around. “I- I was just looking for a broom to…” He trailed off. Jongho rolled his eyes as his smile dimmed into nothingness and crashed into San’s shoulder -probably willingly- as he walked away. “It was nice to meet you, Jung Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>When Jongho walked out without any further discourse, the two and a suffocating silence were the only things populating the antique room.</p><p>“What secret was he talking about?” San asked when he was obviously about to drown in the heaviness of the atmosphere and Wooyoung was pleasantly surprised to hear annoyance clinging to his voice.</p><p>“It’s a secret.” He entertained as he quickly walked out, probably overconfident for someone that literally stole from his manager seconds ago, sharp edges of the little box poking him in the chest mercilessly to remind him of his wrongdoings.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi.” Choi San said warningly as Wooyoung walked around the floor to actually find a broom, the other man tailing him around. He didn’t listen.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you believe this shit, hyung??” Wooyoung said, outraged at the words spilling out of his own mouth. Seonghwa giggled with plush lips against the rim of his wine glass, tipsy in the way the edges of his vision turned kind of fuzzy, but not too much.</p><p>“Sit down, Young-ah.” He said as another giggle bubbled in his throat when Wooyoung scowled even deeper and waved his huge beer glass around.</p><p>“Hyung, I’m telling you she scolded me like a 3 year old, am I even her assistant?!” A couple of heads turned their ways but Wooyoung was too mad and drunk to even care about to useless attention he was gathering. “Oh my fucking god.” He grumbled as he finally sat his ass down, but the silence did not even last a couple of seconds. “And you know what? Her bag was ugly as fuck. Didn’t even match her stupid outfit.” Seonghwa almost spitted out the expensive wine in his mouth as Wooyoung scoffed.</p><p>Park Seonghwa was the only non-sufferer Wooyoung could ever mildly tolerate.</p><p>They first met at their regular pub, which was where they were at, one day as Wooyoung was drowning his soul and his constantly aching nerves in cheapest alcohol they offered since that helped with his pain somehow.</p><p>Seonghwa approached him with a proposal to maybe share a drink or two together, which Wooyoung was kind of too tipsy to deny more, and weirdly they bounded over the second sip.</p><p>At first, Wooyoung was pretty sure he was just some other privileged and entitled prick, just like any other person inside the walls, with a twist of the prettiest features he had ever laid eyes on as his black hair curled over his forehead and doe eyes twinkled every time they caught light, but was proven painfully wrong when the clock was about to hit midnight and they were still hitting it off like they knew each other their whole life.</p><p>Ever since, Park Seonghwa with the twinkle eyes held the spot as the only non-sufferer person Wooyoung would let into his life.</p><p>“You see, hyung.” Wooyoung started, suddenly sounding a lot soberer than he probably was. “It’s not even that the job is so hard, heck, I’m even kinda happy I don’t have to see those ugly mugs every day, really.”</p><p>“You said you liked being an office assistant, too, Wooyoung-ah.”</p><p>“Hyung, that’s different!!” Wooyoung opposed strongly with a hand in the air, took a big sip from his beer slowly before continuing. Seonghwa’s shoulders shook lightly with a chuckle. “I have discovered the charms of being a personal assistant, too. I should just be positive.” <em> Like you can ever do that </em>, some voice inside Wooyoung’s head scoffed. Wooyoung quickly told it to shut it up, annoyed as he took another sip and felt it burn his throat with a grimace.</p><p>“It’s just that-” He stopped to cough the irritation away. Seonghwa nodded like Wooyoung spoke the most meaningful words as he eyed the last drop of his already consumed red wine and ordered another. “It’s just that, that bitch of a soulmate treats me like a servant, okay? It’s annoying.”</p><p>“Did you tell your manager about that?” Seonghwa asked after he silently thanked the waiter fir the new glass of wine.</p><p>“Hyung, I told you the guy is weird as fuck!” Wooyoung slapped his hand on the table and gritted his teeth at the sting of it. “He literally got mad at me for having secrets with his brother!”</p><p>Seonghwa blinked, hand holding his glass mid-air, not even fazed at the fuss Wooyoung was making. “Why did you have secrets with his brother?”</p><p>Wooyoung looked away as the pain crippling his hand dissipated in a couple of seconds. “Well, you see… I was looking for a broom…”</p><p>“For the spilled corpse detox water?”</p><p>“For the spilled corpse detox water.”</p><p>Seonghwa giggled fondly. “Then what?”</p><p>“Then, y’know.” Wooyoung sipped his beer once more slowly and realized he had to order another soon. Seonghwa realized the dangerous emptiness of the glass and ordered before Wooyoung could. Wooyoung smiled in gratitude. “You’re spoiling me, hyung.”</p><p>“Then <em> what </em>, Jung Wooyoung?” Seonghwa diverted the conversation back to the point before Wooyoung could distract both of them with something else. He seemed to do that a lot.</p><p>Wooyoung sighed in defeat. “Then I found some antique room, okay?” He spat, plump lips pouting as he twirled the empty beer glass and the crinkling of the glass against the wooden table mixed with the white noise, Seonghwa watched him in slight anticipation. “Like the kind of useless thing all rich people have. Filled with gold and diamonds just to feel validated that they have money.”</p><p>Seonghwa smiled. “I don’t have that.”</p><p>“I know, hyung. That’s why you’re allowed to sit in front of me.”</p><p>“Because you don’t have that either?”</p><p>“No, because you’re not a greedy selfish entitled weirdo that thinks everything he needs to do in life is going to a job and spend that money recklessly on useless stuff, please. There is a difference.” Wooyoung said through one breath. Seonghwa giggled, satisfied. “Anyways, did you wreck his antique room or what?”</p><p>“I stole something.”</p><p>“You WHAT?!” Seonghwa yelled and Wooyoung jumped up to shut him up as a couple more heads than last time turned towards them once more. “Hyung, shh, shh!!”</p><p>“What did you do with it?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes as Wooyoung told him all about the small golden box he managed to pocket after bribing him with half the glass of his beer.</p><p>“I sold it. Money’s been sitting somewhere.” Wooyoung shrugged dismissively, but then widened his eyes to a comical size. “But, hyung, that’s not even the weirdest part! Right when I was about to walk out his brother comes in and tells me he knew what I did back there!”</p><p>Seonghwa blinked, hand midair as the wine struggled not to spill. “Wooyoung-ah, this story’s not going to the sunshine and rainbows I thought it would go to. If you’ve been telling this story just to tell me you’re fired as the climax I swear to fucking god-”</p><p>“Hyung, listen, the boy was creepy as hell!” Wooyoung quickly beat him to it. “He was standing there all like ‘Hello, I am Choi Jongho’-”</p><p>“Wait.” Seonghwa interrupted, brows furrowed in slight confusion. “Choi Jongho and Choi San? Brothers?”</p><p>Wooyoung gawped at him for a couple of seconds more. “Yeah. Choi San is the older, didn’t I tell you-”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, are you sure these people are not <em> the </em> Choi family?”</p><p>“I mean, if their last name is Choi then it has to be Choi family-”</p><p>“No, Wooyoung, <em> The </em> Choi family. The crazy rich and mean and cold family sitting on top of everything. They even have stocks at your company.” Seonghwa leaned in for effect. “No one even knows why they are so rich.” He whispered, the haze of intoxication getting to his head. A couple passed by their table, too infatuated in one another to realize the awkward leaning of the two right beside them.</p><p>“What do you mean they’re rich? The man is an assistant manager.” Wooyoung whispered back, eyes large enough they felt dry at the edges.</p><p>“Yeah, the older son disappeared then came back suddenly years ago. And the younger one is kind of weird, as some say-”</p><p>“Like I just did,” Wooyoung said in awe.</p><p>“Like you just did.” Seonghwa approved. “People don’t know much about him. He sometimes disappears and comes back like nothing ever happened.”</p><p>“But, hyung…” Wooyoung whispered as he got even closer to his hyung’s drunk but still somehow pretty face. His breath smelled like a hint of mint and a shit ton of sweet red wine. “Why do you know all this?”</p><p>Seonghwa smacked the back of his head and Wooyoung hissed at the after pain as it spread all throughout his body in waves but still somehow did not hurt as much as it would hurt if he wasn’t intoxicated. “Why don’t <em>you </em>know all this? It’s literally common knowledge.”</p><p>“It is?..” Wooyoung murmured, pouting as the image of Choi San’s smile flashed before his eyes and Wooyoung whooshed the memory away in 2 seconds. “I guess I don’t watch TV…”</p><p>“Or read the news, watch the news, check the internet, literally raise your head from the floor and look at some billboards.”</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he chugged the rest of his beer in a matter of seconds. “Yeah, yeah. Point taken.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>bare with us, it's gonna be a long one<br/>ty for reading!!! comments and kudos are appreciated!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. daffodil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun shined over the cracked concrete under his feet.</p><p>Wooyoung hummed a song he wasn’t sure where he heard from as he kicked the pebbles that dared cross his way. The weather was too nice today. He didn’t like the way sun poked his eyes rudely, though the wind that wreaked havoc for the past week or so was gone to let him walk around freely for however much he wanted. Also, the nice weather let him wear as little clothing as possible, letting at least his arms run free of any pain for the time being, so it was a catch.</p><p>It was probably autumn, a Saturday morning he had to find some breakfast in if he did not miss a day from the last time he counted on his little makeshift bullet journal in his mind. What he imagined was a black notebook with silver lines that had little stars and moons on the cover, with slightly yellowish paper inside that let the ink flow just right over it. Wooyoung did not know if such a thing was possible but he was sure he saw it in his dream. Or was it his imagination that created the beautiful object? He was not sure, but as much as the hardships that came with it, at times like this, he was kind of thankful the pain made his brain work a little better. He grabbed an apple from a basket that was on display on the side of the road, inside the shop window that was broken probably years ago. Battered down and in shambles. Just like everything else around.</p><p>He walked on the cranky road that was way past its expiration date, hummed the song that he didn’t know the title to, took a bite from the apple after he wiped it on the rag he happened to wear, and then saw a man standing in the middle of the pathway, blocking his peaceful jog.</p><p>His black hair swayed around freely when he turned his head to take in his surroundings, even the back of it confused, and Wooyoung smiled as a familiar feeling pooled in his gut. He didn’t call out, only skipped past him excitedly, his hands tied behind his back.</p><p>“Are you lost?”</p><p>He didn’t turn around even when the man did not answer for more than what was acceptable and took another bite from his apple that tasted kind of funky. “I am. I think.” The man whispered and Wooyoung did not have any problem hearing it over the noise of the worn-out world. “Do you know where-”</p><p>“Just follow me.” He said as he watched a particularly large cloud pass them by slowly and block the sun on its way for a couple of seconds. The momentary shadow felt refreshing over his burning skin.</p><p>“To where?” The man whispered again, though his feet followed Wooyoung’s excited ones as they kicked pebbles and stepped over puddles, no matter how timid, with no hesitancy.</p><p>“I don’t know. Wouldn’t you follow me if I told you to do so?”</p><p>“I think I would.” The man said. They walked in silence.</p><p>They walked past rundown buildings and broken concrete with rusty metal bars poking out of it threateningly, jumped over and stepped in muddy puddles and pits full of-</p><p>“What is that smell?” The man tailing behind without any question hissed right when Wooyoung put his hands over a relatively good bread that even had its packaging intact. He looked around the package thoroughly. It was expired.</p><p>“Smell?” Woo asked as he ripped the packaging and took a huge bite into the bread and almost shrieked in joy when it tasted nice.</p><p>“This smell.” Wooyoung saw the man look around and felt questionable butterflies at the way his black hair danced in the air.</p><p>“Oh, the corpses.” He said as he threw the packing away after he inhaled the rest of the bread. “They stink so bad, but you get used to it.”</p><p>“Co-corpses?..” The other man stuttered, clearly jarred as he stopped looking around and slowly retracted his arms to maybe protect himself from nothing. Wooyoung found even the smallest gesture endearing.</p><p>“Yes. The people that either couldn’t take the burden of pain or weren’t lucky enough to survive.” Wooyoung said with a huff when he jumped over a particularly taller concrete that blocked the way and all of his nerves went livid for a second simultaneously. “How do you not know that? Where are you from?” He questioned through gritted teeth. He was almost a pro at managing the pain at this point, it was no big deal.</p><p>“Are their bodies just lying around?” The man didn’t even move an inch, arms still hugging himself, probably shaking too if the sun wasn’t shining over them so much that Wooyoung couldn’t see past his silhouette.</p><p>“We drag them into the pits. Are you coming or what?” He yelled over the fresh wails that started to seep into the dead silence of this side of the wall as the man shrunk into himself one last time before he turned around to face him but-</p><p>Both of their eyes widened until they almost popped out of their sockets as a sickening feeling so opposed to how his stomach fluttered before churned Wooyoung’s insides and he felt a blunt force pull him aggressively away from the other man, his surroundings contorting and stretching into a ghastly mess.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung opened his eyes.</p><p>What he saw wasn’t the destroyed buildings and rubble pooling around cracked walls of them, or the muddy waters or the horrible pits filled with the unspeakable, but his small bedroom that was dimly lit by the moon seeping through the curtains that violently swayed over the window Wooyoung forgot to close last night.</p><p>What he heard was not the wails of thousands of people merged into one big cry of help that would never be heard, but the riling whistle of the wind and his own breath challenging it as waves of pointless pain kept wrecking his nerves.</p><p><em>Of course it was him</em>, Wooyoung thought. Of course, it was the man in his dreams that kept visiting him, the man he was not allowed to see the face of, no matter what.</p><p>Of course it was the man that crudely cursed him and did not even give any explanations for it, though Wooyoung knew why. Wooyoung knew why the man fluttered his stomach in those dreams, why made the sweetest of heats pool there like he was some pubescent teen, and he hated it. Wooyoung hated that man.</p><p>The dream was nowhere to be seen, but what he smelled was the same pungent stench that haunted him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Choi San’s head was <em>pounding</em>.</p><p>The white noise of the café as glasses clinked and lattes adorned with equally sweet cream over them and people chatting away their day surrounded the table he and Mingi were sitting on for the past half an hour and it would’ve been nice, very, very nice <em>if only San’s head was not pounding</em>-</p><p>“Bro, are you sure you’re okay?” Mingi asked when San was unresponsive to his question about how his week was for more than a minute and San had to scrape his head off the table to look at him in the eye. Mingi grimaced with a second long look at his face, San rolled his eyes at his antics.</p><p>“Sorry, it’s just that-” San murmured as he aggressively planted his head where it just was and regretted it when his eyes felt like they would pop out. “I just couldn’t sleep at all…”</p><p>Mingi did not say a word until the answer expired and San could hear his exasperated sigh even over the barista yelling someone’s name for their order. “Is it the nightmares again? I thought you stopped seeing them when you were, you know, away.”</p><p>“They’re not <em>nightmares</em>.” San protested immediately as he raised his head impulsively but hissed when the pounding got so bad he saw white for a second, ignoring the part the dreams went away because they never did, contradictory to what he always said when someone asked. He lowered it back down with dread pooling in his gut. It wasn’t like they could talk about his dreams, about the <em>man</em> that kept visiting his dreams uncalled persistently, every time leaving a different feeling that Choi San never experienced in his dull life, making it a little bit more enjoyable from time to time.</p><p>They couldn’t talk about how they would chat for hours on end and never get bored, even if it was only seconds long in reality, how they would visit spectacles that San would only imagine, would doubt even existed, and it was beautiful, it was breathtaking until he had to open his eyes and go back to the cruel reality.</p><p>Of course, he couldn’t talk about it.</p><p>Because it was a <em>man</em>.</p><p>“How is Kang Sora, by the way?” Mingi asked after a sip from his black coffee instead of further interrogation like San expected but was not surprised. It has been years anyways.</p><p>“She’s fine.”</p><p>Mingi waited for another second and frowned when San did not further elaborate. “Just <em>fine</em>?”</p><p>“What else?” San grumbled from where his cheek was squished against the table. “PR stunts are going amazing; it seems to work perfectly for the benefit of the company. We couldn’t spend much time alone but I’m sure that, too, will be fine once all this blows off…”</p><p>“Really?” Mingi raised a skeptical brow with his plastic straw in his mouth. San looked at the way Mingi mercilessly chewed on it and decided maybe it would be better if Mingi cracked his skull open, extracted his brain with no fancy surgical but his bare fingers, and chewed on the pink tissue of it, synchronized with the pounding of his head, as blood dripped from his chin instead. Maybe San would stare at him as he did it too, with a pool of red instead of brains. His eyes would be unfocused, but he would definitely be watching intently.</p><p>“Dude, I love you but is it fun watching me suffer?” San whined. Mingi nodded, deadpanning. “Yes, it is.”</p><p>San pouted. He heard that often.</p><p>“Anyways.” He took a deep breath when his phone beeped to alert a new message. “I do think it was very nice of you to actually join me just since I was about to scream because of work.”</p><p>“Aw, man, was that really the only reason?” Mingi whined with a tone San recognized as him being annoying by now and carefully raised his head up, headache forgotten momentarily as he threw a used paper tissue at him, which Mingi dodged with a wide grin that scrunched his small eyes into little curves.</p><p>“I always tell you I am a better friend than Yeosang, you two keep ignoring me.”</p><p>San nodded as he checked the message responsible for the disturbance of his not so serene serenity. “You did not dump me the last minute for who knows what with a ‘Your best friend is a doctor, darling.’, I’ll give you that.”</p><p>Mingi snorted so hard a couple of employees turned their heads towards them. “He <em>is </em>a doctor though, a very busy one at that it seems. Not that I am not busy. But you could say that I <em>totally</em> stepped up my friend game.”</p><p>“Why, did you bring me painkillers?”</p><p>Mingi chose to be silent. “Yeosang would have,” San emphasized with a brow cocked upwards for effect. Mingi sighed, defeated. “I don’t even know why I’m friends with you both…” He mumbled with another sip from his death drink before San raised an excited hand up.</p><p>“Hold on, I need to send this to Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>“To who?” Mingi asked uninterested as San skillfully forwarded the weekly evaluation.</p><p>“Stop smiling like a creep, who is that?”</p><p>San raised his head from the transparent screen that floated various tabs over it and smiled even larger. “He’s my personal assistant! I didn’t tell you about him?”</p><p>“Aren’t you an assistant manager? Why do you have a separate assistant?” Mingi frowned. San silently giggled to himself.</p><p>“It’s because of the PR situation.” He brushed it off. “Ah, but he will read it with the biggest frown on his face because it’s off the clock right now... I bet he’s cursing right this moment.” A nod to self-affirm. “See, he’s seen it. Did I ever tell you about how he never smiles? I’ve yet to see one tiny smile from him and it has been what, a whole month? And we’re always together too.” San pouted with his cheeks puffed up with air as he looked at the typing sign below Wooyoung’s name and patiently waited. “Like, yes, he gets angry very quickly too, and looks like he’s not enjoying life very much, but how do you never smile in a month? Not even when someone makes a stupid joke or when you accidentally switch up your phones or something, because it has happened, you know?”</p><p>San typed in a very quick <em>It’s okay if you just take a look at it and then archive it with the other reports</em> to Wooyoung’s almost snappy<em> What am I supposed to do with this?</em>.</p><p>“And I can see he is not very familiar with this kind of job, but he’s trying his best and is actually kind of improving too. He did not make any serious mistakes other than messing up the order things are supposed to be filed and never misses any important dates or calls.” He giggled to himself, barely audible over the white noise as Wooyoung typed a simple <em>k</em> as an answer. “Ah, but there was this time when-”</p><p>“San-ah.” San heard Mingi interrupt and raised his from the last text Wooyoung sent and raised his head. It was full of sunflowers.</p><p>Every single nook and crook around the table they had been occupying for almost an hour now was surrounded by countless sunflowers, small ones and one that was as tall as himself, some bloomed and some spreading their seeds, some about to die but all of them, without a single one missing, was facing him. San blinked.</p><p>“Oh, was I blabbering?” He said as all of them started to slowly wilt away to the ground, into the platform the table was propped on, to be never seen. “Sorry, it should be the coffee.”</p><p>“No, it’s fine. It’s just that-” Mingi said, scratching his nape kind of uncomfortably. “You kinda forgot I was here.” He smiled when he thought he found the way out. “You know I like attention.”</p><p>“Yeah,” San said as he forced a smile, put his phone back on the table after turning off the screen. San knew that, too, was bullshit.</p><p><em>Take your pills when you get home</em>, he mentally noted as the last of the flowers wilted away.</p><p> </p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>Wooyoung did not open his eyes as his skin buzzed and tingled under his suit. Raindrops pitter-pattered over the window to play a song Wooyoung was not the biggest fan of.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi.” He heard once more, this time more persistent, and sighed. “What?”</p><p>“Do you like being my assistant?”</p><p>Wooyoung simply scoffed. “Where did that come from?”</p><p>“Just answer~!” The same voice whined overdramatically and Wooyoung had to search through the deepest parts of his brain for words that would not offend.</p><p>“I don’t think being an assistant is enjoyable, no matter the circumstances.”</p><p>Choi San did not answer for a couple of moments and Wooyoung wondered if his privileged fragile ego was too hurt even with this much. It wasn’t like being an assistant wasn’t annoying at best and against human rights at worse. Wooyoung could stand behind his words proudly.</p><p>“I can agree.” Choi San said after an extended silence. “As an assistant manager.”</p><p>A silent smile Wooyoung would deny to death curved his lips upwards. “Assistant manager is not the same thing. Also didn’t you get promoted? Aren’t you assistant manager 2.0 or something now?”</p><p>Choi San’s gentle giggle resonated throughout the whole room as it danced with the unnerving song of the raindrops before it reached Wooyoung’s ear. It was surprisingly pleasant that Wooyoung wanted to carve it out of his face with a teaspoon. “Right. It feels like I got promoted to be at home and sometimes look handsome.”</p><p>“Well, I got promoted to be your tail and sometimes Kang Sora’s servant, so, fair.”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, you’re neither of those.” Choi San said, tone warning probably as an empty threat. Wooyoung opened his eyes wide like he wanted them to burn enough that they melt off his face. “You seem to like to sugarcoat things, manager.”</p><p>Wooyoung saw San’s expression slightly freeze for a split second from the corner of his eye that unfortunately was still intact. “Call me San, Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>“Anyways, <em>manager-nim</em>,” Wooyoung emphasized as much as his vocal cords were capable of as he carefully rose up from Choi San’s probably overpriced couches that they were sprawled over for the major part of the evening, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling or drowning in the darkness behind their own eyelids, each on their own. “You know we should be going over your schedule for next week.”</p><p>San straight up pouted at the mention of work and Wooyoung was torn between wanting to smack it off his face and finding it kind of cute. He chose to do none. “Get up, am I your babysitter now?” He spat, wishing he could throw an unfortunate cushion in the lethargic manager’s direction without risking excruciating, writhing on the floor kind of pain. Yes, he had gotten his attack recently, two days prior during a photoshoot for one of the leading magazines in the industry, which made him lock himself in a room at the very obscure corners of Choi San’s huge house and recoil in convulsing waves of pain, just to walk out half an hour later and face total chaos because Choi San fainted in the middle of a fancy pose and got a bump on his huge head.</p><p>And while for other people of his kind having your attack recently meant they could be free to act recklessly for at least a couple of days, it meant absolutely nothing for Wooyoung himself, as bitchy as it was. Wooyoung hated his defect nerves with a passion probably more fired than his hatred for the man that accepted his arrogance without any fuss and instead smiled, eyes closed and all. As soon as he caught himself thinking how ethereal he looked under the artificial lighting reflecting off of the probably real diamonds hanging off the chandelier above them for a second, he hated himself too. <em>Huh, contradicting much?</em></p><p>“And you seem to think your job is anything but what it actually is, Wooyoung-ssi.” <em>Nothing wrong with appreciating what looked good</em>, Wooyoung thought as San opened his eyes and stared into nothingness, thoughtful. “Come on, lay down. Rain is beautiful.”</p><p><em>Objectively,</em> Wooyoung added immediately.</p><p>“I am not very fond of rain.” He said, not even thinking of filtering his words as he felt the buzzing under his skin get worse for a second at the thought of raindrops projectile landing over it, slowly gliding and torturing every single nerve inside his body. Ew. No, thanks.</p><p>“Really?” San diverted his gaze towards where Wooyoung glared at innocent raindrops tapping the window playfully before they conjoined others, make even bigger ones to glide even faster. Wooyoung found them absolutely unpredictable and evil. San pouted once more when he sensed the discomfort surrounding him, looking up at the white ceiling again. “Sora said she doesn’t like rain either...”</p><p>Wooyoung heard soft tapping over the flooring as San trailed off and a small brown, almost black head appeared beside his feet, followed by the light a grey body skillfully walking around the couch San was still laying over and jumping up to land its paws perfectly over the man’s chest to draw out a huff. Wooyoung was taken aback to witness the exact moment San’s eyes lit up looking at the small creature carelessly sitting over his chest.</p><p>“Byeol-ah!” He said as he beamed the biggest smile Wooyoung had ever seen on his face, patted the cat as it nuzzled his nose against his palm with a purr even Wooyoung was able to hear. “Where were you all this time?..”</p><p>“You have a cat?” Wooyoung asked, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that he had been in and out of this house, even to the shady antics room and probably obscure darkroom at the very corner, and did not see the cat even <em>once</em>. Not even a glimpse. Not even a single meow.</p><p>A slight frown replaced the beaming smile curving San’s lips and he hugged the cat almost defensively. “What, you don’t like cats either?”</p><p>Wooyoung silently gulped as he watched the way the cat wriggled out of the arms of the man still pouting shamelessly, parkoured its way between the two couches and sat down at the spot just beside Wooyoung on the couch as Wooyoung used every fiber in his body not to move or show weakness. It wasn’t exactly that Wooyoung was scared of cats, or dogs, or any domestic animal in general; it was just the possibility of being jumped unannounced at any given moment and the obligation to keep his mouth shut no matter how much his skin felt like it was sizzling under his clothes that made him inherently uneasy. Wooyoung thought it was a rightful fear. Yunho mostly agreed but was leaning more towards the cuteness of animal partnership. Hongjoong cried with tears of joy at a glimpse of any kind of fur.</p><p>“She’s normally livid around new people.” Choi San carefully got up, causing the cat <em>and</em> as a result, Wooyoung to flinch for a second, just to keep the staring game going in another. “It’s kind of astonishing she’s so calm right now.”</p><p>“Is she?” Wooyoung blinked slowly like even his blinking would startle the cat and most probably initiate a surprise attack that would have severe consequences. The cat, Byeol, stared at him for another moment or two, her ice blue, almost grey eyes intently focused on every little move he made, just to turn around herself once and calmly curl into a ball beside him on the couch with a respectable distance between them. Wooyoung was completely sure his heartbeat was audible enough for even San to hear as he watched from where he sat bewildered at the cat now fast asleep.</p><p>“What?” Wooyoung whispered like the cat wouldn’t hear it. “Is she not happy? Is she about to attack me? Oh my god, she hates me, right?”</p><p>“No, no!” San denied quickly, the smile on his face bemused as it kept curving and curving his lips to dig dimples you probably can eat cereal from. Or soup. Or use it as a spoon to scoop out dude-stop-having-dimples juice. Wooyoung felt distracted. <em>Objectively</em>.</p><p>“Huh?..” He said very intelligently, diverting his gaze to the cat’s stomach rising and falling serenely and Choi San dared to <em>giggle</em> as he laid back down like he was mocking Wooyoung’s absolutely terrified state. “She seems to like you, Wooyoung-ssi. If you’re scared of cats-”</p><p>“I’m not scared of cats,” Wooyoung stated strongly for someone that was too alert of the way the cat twitched its small paw in whatever dream she was having.</p><p>“Then, is it that you’re not fond of cats either?”</p><p>Wooyoung did not answer as he watched the way Choi San stared up at the blank ceiling once more, one hand under his head and eyes thoughtful, once more, as they looked like two black whirlpools of an abyss that would suck you into the worst parts of the world, maybe parts worse than Wooyoung already knew of, already witnessed. “Sora said she doesn’t like cats either. That’s why I’ve been locking her up when we had to do work here.”</p><p>Wooyoung was not sure the dreary tone to the man’s voice was because he had to lock his cat up or something else.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi.” He started, calm and mostly abstracted at the way Wooyoung was straight up staring with a frown on his face. “You don’t believe in the test, right?”</p><p>“I don’t,” Wooyoung said without hesitation, the confidence provided by tens of thousands of people inside the wall that found the testing system bullshit too and waited for Choi San to turn around and frown at him, with disdain written all over his face and his thousand-dollar worth of living room behind him. He was the PR face for the whole gimmick they were trying to set up for their trickery anyways, he seemed very content about the whole 97% situation too and all, surely he-</p><p>“You know…” Choi San said instead, waited for a second long, gazing at the white above their heads, the sound of rain battering against the poor windows mixing with their breathing, cutting the silence into various shapes. “I read somewhere that these tests and companies and walls did not always exist.” A small, stagnant smile bloomed on his face. “It was a dusty book, hardcover and quite fancy with golden dye at the edges, its name too worn out for me to read. It said there were people that were meant to be together, people bound by a greater power, not necessarily God, from birth, and that one of their lives would be hell until they found each other. That universe would push them together, give each pair an individual quirk to know the other was their meant to be, and only then they would be truly complete.”</p><p>Wooyoung felt a tremor different than what constantly occupied his nerves run down his spine. The buzzing under his sensitive skin magnified for a second, perhaps the gentle rain outside slowly turning into a thunderstorm, momentarily illuminating the night sky from time to time, breaking any defense he worked to bring up shamelessly, viciously was the culprit or the words that materialized between them as vile letters hanging in the air. The man couching before him looked up at the ceiling like he wanted to see past it, witness the artificial stars twinkling down at them without a care and maybe he <em>could</em> actually do it if only the artificial clouds did not keep spitting slightly acidic water over their heads.</p><p>Then the twinkling that would challenge and easily win a versus with the best of stars disappeared from his eyes just as fast as it made itself home in them. “Pretty self-indulgent, right?” He said with a rancid smile that did not fit his face. “Whoever wrote that book did not match their partner with a high enough percentage, I’m sure.”</p><p>Wooyoung sprung up to his feet, his blood boiling inside his veins in the quarter of a second, and walked away without even giving two cares about both the man and his cat jumping up almost half a meter at his stomping. “Get up. We need to check your schedule with your high percentage.”</p><p>His hatred for Choi San reached a new level right then and there as thunder illuminated the synthetic night sky once again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There are two kinds of people in the world.</em>
</p><p>The chatter. Lively giggles of the children all sitting on the floor along with him, playing, singing, contrasting the wails echoing outside. A woman with rags for hair and clothes, standing in front of a blackboard.</p><p>
  <em>They abandoned us. Don’t you ever forget that. </em>
</p><p>The lifeless eyes of the woman as Wooyoung grabbed her face in his little hands, cried and mourned and begged as yet another loud explosion suppressed the pained screams of everyone running around and trying to maybe escape, away from the wall intimidatingly risen above them and the huge dome that made its sky.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was the day for the huge family dinner.</p><p>San was restless the whole day, his clammy hands sticking to the foreign piece of paper with the guest list written on it, as a sign that it was building up to be too much ever since he opened his eyes at his own bed, his own house, with the knowledge that he would have to spend the later part of his day between these godforsaken walls. Ah, his parents’ house, of course.</p><p>This humongous palace housing countless servants, maids, cooks, and cleaners, all for a family of four.</p><p>Three, if San might. He still looked at the intimidating hassle going around the probably too big dinner table filled with food enough for at least five family of the middle class for a week and thought leaving almost ten years ago was one of the best decisions he had ever had.</p><p>“San-ah!” He surprisingly heard over the footsteps echoing off the tall walls of the huge chamber before he saw the hasty walk his way, his mother’s expensive chiffon dress flailing around as she reached her bony arms out to fix his necktie.</p><p>“You know what you’re supposed to do, right?” San reluctantly lowered the paper as the hiss left her slim lips covered with a thick layer of pink lipstick, teeth clenched for literally no reason other than to intimidate.</p><p>
  <em>You are a disgrace to this family, you should’ve never been born.</em>
</p><p>“Yes, mother.” He said when he took a second too long and the bony fingers around his necktie tightened it too much. He cleaned his throat at the satisfied grin on the woman’s face and loosened the piece of fabric threatening to block his airways.</p><p>“Just don’t forget to smile, my handsome son, okay?” She murmured, visibly relaxed as she patted away the nonexistent dust off his shoulders, but San knew she would never let her guards down. “Chin up, chest out, always look confident. You’re <em>the</em> son of The Choi family.”</p><p>San blinked. “Where is Jongho?”</p><p>He could see the exact second the smile dropped from her lips, followed by the taken aback scowl contorting her old face and her hand retracting like she just got electrocuted. “Where he is supposed to be. Don’t bring him up.”</p><p>San couldn’t help the scoff as she turned around to most likely check the source of newly heard footsteps and chatter outside the dining hall and silently prayed no one saw his eyeroll after her.</p><p>“Oh, Yeosang-ah!” He chirped with a smile curving his previous scowl when he spotted Yeosang walking down the stairs, white coat hanging off one arm and a brown bag in the other, staring at his phone before he heard San’s voice.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” San said when he was close enough with a smile and Yeosang locked his screen in a swift motion so it was nothing but a reinforced transparent plastic.</p><p>“You don’t know I’m invited to the dinner too?” He cocked a perfectly shaped brow up. San blinked.</p><p>“Ah, of course you are.”</p><p>“Mingi couldn’t make it because he had something more interesting to do. I am unfortunately free this evening.”</p><p>San sneered. “I see he is willing to miss the chance to meet my amazing soulmate, then.”</p><p>Yeosang cocked his head to the side with a cunning smile. “That’s not what Mingi told me, though…”</p><p>A frown inclined San’s brows as he smacked Yeosang’s shoulder, causing his bag AND him to almost tumble down the stairs if not for San holding him as they both silently giggled until a servant side-eyed them judgingly.</p><p>“Anyways.” San cleaned his throat as he tried and straightened his white shirt. “I should go check if Sora is ready. I will see you around?”</p><p>“Yeah. Got nothing better to do.” Yeosang shrugged.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung would like to think he was not a fuss-maker.</p><p>Sure, he was not the calmest type, maybe even had anger problems, debatably, but he tried his best not to whine and cry about the hardships life loved to throw his way, always struggled in silence, and shed his tears in the dark corners. After all, he had to hide the truth about his whole being from the world, he figured he should give that much credit to himself.</p><p>Yes, he yelled and screamed at Hongjoong when he tried to drag him inside the wall, threatened to slit his throat in his sleep with cold eyes and a murderous tone to his whisper when Hongjoong offered to find his soulmate <em>to make his pain stop,</em> with his whole chest, like that privileged prick was not the reason to everything bad in his life-</p><p>Wooyoung thought, despite what anyone that observed him for a month would say, that he had a placid nature probably deriving from the reluctance to move in general, a natural instinct to minimize friction-based pain ever since his skin started to hurt like he had open nerve endings over every square of it.</p><p>Kim Hongjoong would disagree with it, his smart-ass soulmate Jeong Yunho would smirk and say <em>Wooyoung-ah, is it the delirious times again?,</em> what the fuck ever that meant, and then they would turn around and forget he ever said anything.</p><p>Kang Sora, on the other hand, was the epitome of his innocence.</p><p>“Are you blind?” She sneered from where she crossed her legs, her narrow hips perched up over the armrest of the expensive-looking sofa in the corner of the room, surrounded by a dozen of women, all bowing their heads either in shame, fear, or both.</p><p>“Does this look like red to you?” Kang Sora said with the disgusted look on her face when the maid at the closed front did not answer, all while swinging around a pair of coral stilettos in the air to prove her point. “How am I supposed to wear this ugly color with this dress? Do you know how much this cost?!” She screeched, throwing the poor shoes on the floor as the front row flinched altogether. “Go and do your job properly or I will have all of you fired in a breath.”</p><p>Wooyoung sighed a deep sigh as he watched the women scatter around and out the room, silently from the other corner. He was not surprised she hosted the devil inside her or anything, it wasn’t the news he didn’t already know, but those poor women-</p><p>“You.” He heard the malice in her tone before seeing her eyes shining red.</p><p>“Yes, Kang Sora-ssi?”</p><p>“Do you know where San is?” She asked, her nose high above the clouds and eyebrows cocked up just to intimidate. Wooyoung wanted to tell her if she got a taste of one-sixteenth of what he had experienced she would be pissing her pricey little dress but did not. He was not a fuss-maker, after all.</p><p>“No.” He simply answered.</p><p>“Then go look for him, why are you still standing there?” She snapped as she held a hand mirror engraved with elegant spirals on the handle, their sides embellished with intricate golden lines branching up to trap the oval-shaped glass between them. It was pretty. Kang Sora’s fingers choking it mercilessly as she checked if her pearl white teeth were still white enough were not.</p><p>“I will go right now.” He said with a straight face and an even boring voice accompanying a bow he hardly finished without wincing.</p><p>It was Choi and Kang families’ full-scale meeting dinner arrangement day.</p><p>Wooyoung did not have the full grasp on the details, but as much as he overheard, despite his many efforts to leave himself out, it wasn’t that the families were meeting for the first time, or Kang Sora and Choi San were going to tell every single member of each of their family that they were engaged. It was, like anything they ever did, a simple PR stunt to make paparazzi, therefore the general public believe even more that they were the perfect couple to ever exist. With their whole chest. When actual soulmates existed.</p><p>On the other hand, Wooyoung was well aware everyone collectively agreed on ignoring half of the world population, then actually forgot about them.</p><p>A whole shitshow.</p><p><em>Dumb fucks</em>, he thought to himself while his skin felt like it was on fire with his every step over the expensive porcelain and ceramic tiles, beyond oversensitive as he was too careful not to trigger an attack these past two weeks, prioritizing the hectic schedule that was inherently thrown his way. It was all great and dandy, going without a proper attack in two weeks that is until it made the attack threaten to be initiated with a single outer touch or some wind blowing his way, anytime, any moment. It was pretty bad. Wooyoung wanted to just watch some late-night show as the pain probably wouldn’t let him sleep anyways, put all his cognitive thinking to some dusty shelf and wait for his doom to wreck his body triggered by his own breath touching his hand or something. Wasn’t anything too unexpected. Instead, Wooyoung just kept walking.</p><p>He walked and walked inside the huge house on his mission to find The Choi San that abandoned him couple of hours ago to fall inside Kang Sora’s rotten claws, passing by amazing artwork adorning the equally expensive wallpaper illuminated by the diamond chandeliers above his head every 2 meters and normally Wooyoung would at least appreciate the spectacular interior design of the palace-like house without any hard feelings <em>but his skin was on fire</em>-</p><p>A blonde man stepped outside the door at the very end of the fancy hall Wooyoung just halfheartedly finished scanning, shrugged off what seemed to be a white lab coat, smiled towards the inside of the room one last time, and turned over his heels to walk down the hall with the same smile lingering on his lips. Wooyoung slightly bowed at the man when they made eye contact as they walked past each other, vaguely wondered why he brought a lab coat to a family dinner or what he was going to do with it but let it go when foreign footsteps started filling the space downstairs. He didn’t want to obey Kang Sora’s evil authority, but he himself wanted to find Choi San and maybe nag him about how he left Wooyoung like a pile of trash beside a dumpster and fucked off to god knows where hours ago. <em>So much for being a personal assistant</em>.</p><p>“Are you looking to steal again?” He heard as he walked across the still open door and almost jumped out of his own irritated skin, a grimace contorting his face as waves of pain took him by surprise.</p><p>“Excuse me, I-” He snapped when his head stopped spinning and his vision cleared enough to let him see the reason behind his heart almost dropping to his ass, just to be confronted with Choi Jongho leaning against a brick-colored leather sofa.</p><p>“I am looking for my manager.” He instead said as calmly as he could under the pressure of Choi Jongho’s everlasting smirk. “I think you misunderstood our first-”</p><p>“Misunderstood what? You, stealing from my brother?”</p><p>Wooyoung took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second and silently counted to three before opening them again with a smirk of his own. “I think you may have some problems of your own, Choi Jongho-ssi.” He said as he traced with his eyes where the blonde man with a lab coat hanging off his arm walked away, watched in amusement as the other man’s smug smile dropped almost immediately.</p><p>“Come inside, Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>Wooyoung did because he knew he would end up going in no matter how much he resisted anyway.</p><p>“You’re a brave one for an assistant,” Jongho said after he kicked himself off the couch, walked towards the center of the huge room well illuminated as white curtains swayed around caught in the wind. Wooyoung clicked the door shut and took a deep breath when the noise of the newcomers was muted behind it. “Life should be easy on you.”</p><p>Wooyoung had to use every fiber in his body not to blatantly scoff at the man living in a palace under the wings of his multimillionaire parents.</p><p>“Coming rich from you.”</p><p>“Why do you think so?”</p><p>“I believe we are standing inside a palace belonging to your family, Choi Jongho-ssi.”</p><p>Wooyoung could see the edges of his mouth turn upwards only slightly, his fingers tracing the engravings of his antique vanity like he had just discovered them.</p><p>“Do you know the tale of Bluebeard, Wooyoung-ssi?”</p><p>Wooyoung did not know.</p><p>“Once upon a time, a count with a blue beard lived alone in a huge castle. He had money, lots of it, but no one would want to get close to him because of his blue beard. One day, a very poor woman showed up on his door, said she wanted to be his bride and Bluebeard was so happy that he brought all the jewels, all the treasure he had and showered her with them but had only one demand from her: that she never went to the room in the basement. What do you think she did, Wooyoung-ssi?”</p><p>Wooyoung cocked his head to the side, blinked slowly. “Did she go anyways?”</p><p>Jongho nodded with the trace of a smile curving his lips. “She did. She let curiosity get the best of her, one day when her husband was not around walked down the stairs to the secret door and opened it. Do you know what was inside? Corpses of women displayed on the walls. Corpses of Bluebeard’s previous wives that disregarded his warnings not to open the door.” The smile widened to reveal his teeth as he raised his head to look straight into Wooyoung’s eyes. “He killed all of them. Isn’t it amazing?”</p><p>Wooyoung slowly gulped, not because he was intimidated but because he genuinely didn’t know what to answer. Was he the wife? Was this room the basement? He cleared his throat.</p><p>“Yes, amazing.” he halfheartedly said so, it was <em>amazingly</em> concerning.  “Aren’t you going downstairs, Jongho-ssi?” He said with a makeshift smile, tying his hands behind his back and feeling the familiar sting of his own skin against itself as Jongho smiled even larger, almost excitedly.</p><p>“I should, right? Let’s go, Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked twice, bewildered. “You will not be changing?”</p><p>Jongho looked down at his blue-striped pajamas once and then up at Wooyoung. “No?”</p><p>The serenity locked inside the room evaporated into the noise coming downstairs the instant Jongho opened the door and stepped out without any hesitation, humming a melody Wooyoung was not familiar of, tripping down the stairs with a huge smile on his face like he was not in his pajamas throwing himself amongst million-dollar people, all chatting and throwing their screams of joy disguised as laughs into the air, as food piled over the huge dinner table without anyone sitting to eat it yet. Wooyoung looked around, wondered if he burst into flames right then and there would anyone turn around and bat an eyelash at the flames.</p><p>He heard hurried heels clicking against the porcelain flooring, then some woman hiss. “Why is he here?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked at the uneasy feeling latching onto his chest.</p><p>“I said why is he here?!” The woman that Wooyoung recognized as San’s mother snapped, her eyes livid as they looked around the room for someone to blame for the presence of the boy standing only a step before Wooyoung. Jongho did not say a word, only stared with a smile too hard to read curling his lips. Bloodshot eyes found Wooyoung’s confused ones and Wooyoung didn’t like the wrath inside them.</p><p>“Are you responsible for this?”</p><p>He didn’t answer. She stepped on and two in his direction, closer and closer to him, and pointed a finger at his chest, her hushed roar not shaking Wooyoung in the slightest.</p><p>“Who are you to decide if he can step out of his room or not, I don’t even recognize you. Take him back right now, I will not be tolerating this behavior.”</p><p>Wooyoung looked up, saw Choi San there at the very end of the table, just standing there with a smile on his face so huge that his eyes were basically two little crescents, with Kang Sora beside him stealing some of his smile to patch up her own in an attempt to make it look decent. Wooyoung thought it was disgusting how her scales showed where her smile failed to cover. It was gut-wrenching.</p><p>“Look at me, you benighted pest-” The woman hissed once more, holding his necktie and pulling it down, causing Wooyoung’s neck feel like it was being cut clean in two. Wooyoung slapped her hand away with a grimace without even giving any thought to it, giving even less fucks when she widened her bloodshot eyes in rage, but his ears-</p><p>“Oh, Jongho-yah!” Choi San said when his eyes traced up to where they were standing, completely out of place but he had a halo on top of his head that Wooyoung was not able to look away from and a smile literally tailored by the angels that probably did not even exist, even though there were a dozen people between them as he walked closer, even though his neck and hand pulsed with a pain too intense.</p><p>“What are you doing he-”</p><p>“Unbelievable…” She sneered over his mirthful voice, holding her hand like it was cut off and she was trying to stitch it back in place. Wooyoung was sure it didn’t hurt even one in a thousand when compared.</p><p>“Take him back to room this instant or I will have you fired, wherever you are from.” Choi San blinked, his smile frozen in place as confusion trapped it, imprisoned it. Wooyoung was not sure why it ticked him so much.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” He looked at Jongho, Wooyoung and then landed on his mother’s hand that she dramatically was clutching with the other. “He’s my-”</p><p>“If he’s your employee then practice authority and tell him to fix his mistake.”</p><p>Wooyoung did not even realize when all the mirth, fake or not, surrounding the man standing in front of him had come to a halt, or when one or two pair of eyes started staring at the four of them with malice and wonder. His skin burned uncomfortably under the rather expensive fabric of his suit.</p><p>The smile on Choi San’s face dropped down to zero and Wooyoung felt something in his chest twist painfully, confused.</p><p>“Mother, it’s okay.” He heard San say firmly but his ears were filled with sand.</p><p>The sand filled and overflowed his ears and Wooyoung didn’t like it. He didn’t like the spotlight over his head, didn’t like how it heated his already irritated skin, didn’t like how Jongho said nothing as his own mother looked at his eyes with so much hatred and only smiled. A smile enchanted with acceptance, not even shaken a bit, like this happened a million times.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, please take Jongho back to his room.”</p><p>He looked at San as his voice cut the silence surrounding them in a clean half, looked at the mom with steam coming out her ears, looked at everyone around some too curious for their own good, some pestered enough to send meaningless daggers at them. It wasn’t about him or Jongho’s room or stealing. Jongho was the wife.</p><p>“Yes, manager.” He said with a simple nod.</p><p> </p><p>The chatter.</p><p>The cackles of the people gathered around the huge table echoing off the tall walls.</p><p>Choi San tapped on the silverware laying beside his half-eaten plate.</p><p><em>One, two</em>.</p><p>Was Wooyoung okay? Was he too surprised? Was he scared?</p><p><em>One, two</em>.</p><p>San felt the noise weighing him down with an excruciatingly heavy blanket dim down to static as sand filled his ears.</p><p>For a split second, when Jongho was standing there with his pajamas, with a smile on his face very content with his presence downstairs, he thought that maybe, just maybe he was allowed outside now. That just maybe everything was okay, maybe at least that part of their life stopped being so fucked up.</p><p>Choi San tapped on the expensive cloth covering the equally expensive wood underneath and felt the vibrations up until his shoulder. <em>One, two</em>. <em>One, two</em>.</p><p>What did Wooyoung think when he ordered him around, not even for something related to his job, heck, not even related to San himself but his fucked up family, for their fucked-up reasoning not to let their younger son out of his room?</p><p>But Choi San was only using his authority. As a manager. As a higher up.</p><p>Why did he feel like every bit of the dinner deliberately prepared by experienced chefs and highly paid maids felt like some stinky slime bouncing around his torso?</p><p>“San-ssi, tell them about the place we looked for the engagement ceremony.” He heard Kang Sora say and snapped his head up. More than two dozen eyes were looking straight at him, expectant.</p><p>More than two dozen eyes centered on huge sunflowers, all facing him intimidatingly, with various shaped bodies adorned with expensive clothes instead of thick stems. Every single one of their petals bloomed beautifully, yellow in all their glory around each a pair of realistically drawn eyes in the center. San gulped. Was he the sun? Or was he just another sunflower, facing its lookalikes?</p><p>“San-ssi?” He heard what his future fiancé should be saying but all he saw sitting on the chair beside him was another sunflower glaring at him. He blinked. Was he the sun or was he just another sunflower? Would thinking he was the sun be too ego-centric?</p><p>“San-ah? Follow me.” His mother said softly from his other side and San didn’t even turn his head around to know she was a sunflower too.</p><p>They walked down the long halls far enough that none other sunflower could hear them.</p><p>“Explain yourself.” She spat, angry as she put her hands on her waist, the expensive fabric of her fancy dress scrunching up around her hands but her bloodshot eyes and upturned mouth were still surrounded by three sets of yellow petals.</p><p>Angry like she was angry at Jongho. At Wooyoung.</p><p>“Explain what?” He managed to say without slurring or screaming bloody murder.</p><p>“I know you’re seeing <em>things</em> again, stop trying to fool me.”</p><p>“But, I’m not-”</p><p>“Choi San, did you not take your pills on such an important day?” The red mouth said, its shape still an upside-down crescent and San just-</p><p>“I did. I did, but-” He bit his lips, his tongue tried to contain the giggle rising up his throat but failed miserably. “But you’re- You look like -”</p><p>He giggled, giggled as he covered his mouth in hopes that maybe it would help contain them as they kept bursting out, but did he want to? Did he want to suppress the giggles that resurfaced so beautifully and made him feel like the san for a couple of seconds?</p><p>The yellow petals started doubling, tripling in number like they were reacting to his giggles that filled the hall, flowers of all colors blooming right beside their feet and vines probably as green as the slime filling his gut covered the expensive wallpapers and he giggled, he giggled and stuttered out a broken <em>I am sorry, you just look like</em>-</p><p>A slap.</p><p>As San felt his cheek burn painfully, he thought about the last time he got slapped. Everything that was filled with life and beauty decayed until they were nothing but black that smelled, probably like his guts did too. Was it when he daydreamed again? Was it when he was in Jongho’s room for too long? Was it even his mom?</p><p>“Go take your pills and then come back to the table. You have 5 minutes to get a hold of yourself.” He heard over the noise of life suffocating around him, letting out their last breath. Was he the sun, or did his petals decompose with everything else, too?</p><p>“Yes, mother.” He said, head held low but loud and clear, staring at the dead flowers under his shoes and felt a tinge of pain in his chest. Was he the sun that shone brightly? Was it selfish to think he was the sun?</p><p>The clinking of his mother’s heels killed the last of the vine’s wailing and San tapped his fingers over his pants. <em>One, two</em>. <em>One, two</em>.</p><p>Was Wooyoung okay?</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung would like to think he was not a fuss-maker, but he was persistent in contradicting himself today.</p><p>First, he stayed with a pouty Jongho that glued his eyes on his phone the whole night, told him another tale when he got bored for 5 minutes just to go right back to texting to whoever he was texting before, just because he felt horrible about the boy apparently not allowed to leave his room, for that were not disclosed to Wooyoung. And it was probably better that way, that he didn’t know anything. He promised himself, anyways, even before he stepped inside the walls that he would never be involved in anyone’s business, to never let himself be too affiliated with someone else’s problems because it was dangerous. He could never risk being too careless, too mindless, let alone be a fraction of close to anyone that he was not sure wouldn’t hurt him in any way, but his skin hurt and itched and irritated so much today and he just-</p><p>“Here, Wooyoung-ssi.” Choi San said as he held out the reports sheets for the last week out for Wooyoung, along with the print and photos that would be all over the media by tomorrow morning, headlines with <em>magical 97% match rate</em> written in bold and captions, also saying <em>engagement plans???</em> in some dramatic ass tone that you can hear with your eyes. All uploaded to a tiny storage device the size of Wooyoung’s pinky nail.</p><p>“Yeah,” Wooyoung grumbled dismissively as he put the device in some pocket of his blazer hoping it caught fire along with his whole body and put the report sheets inside his bag as quick as he could. <em>It wouldn’t matter much if I was actually on fire</em>, a part of him thought as he turned around to leave unannounced.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>Wooyoung stopped after two steps, took a deep breath, and turned around. Choi San was looking down.</p><p>“What did you do after- the whole night?” He looked up, playing with his fingers mindlessly, with those fucking eyes Wooyoung wanted to gauge out a little too often.</p><p>Wooyoung stopped, felt a thousand fire ants crawling over his skin, leaving burning bitemarks along their way and looked straight into Choi San’s eyes.</p><p>“Why do you even care?”</p><p>He could observe the exact second Choi San’s last bit of smile diminished into nothing.</p><p>“Because I am your manager and I should be taking responsibility for your-”</p><p>“That’s actually <em>so</em> generous of you because I keep taking responsibility for <em>your</em> behavior as your personal assistant, even what is happening isn’t even about you.”</p><p>Choi San’s perfectly shaped eyebrows inclined into an appalled scowl and Wooyoung’s skin was on fire and-</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, I-”</p><p>“No.” Wooyoung deadpanned, walked two steps closer as he interrupted his manager without a trace of hesitation, the finger that was not curled around the handle of his bag pointing right at his chest accusingly. “You don’t even look out for your own brother, so stop pretending to care about your little <em>employee</em> that runs around and takes all the blame for stupid shit concerning you.”</p><p>He saw all the guilt and desperation behind Choi San’s eyes that looked at him behind his scowl and felt that, yes, he should be feeling all of it down to his core, that yes, it should leave a scar so deep he doesn’t just forget it the other day because Wooyoung was so tired and his skin felt like it was peeling on its own, leaving nothing but aching flesh behind it and he was so <em>tired</em>-</p><p>“Don’t <em>worry</em> about any of this.” He said lifting his bag the tiniest bit when San pressed his lips together instead of answering. “I will take care of it anyways.”</p><p>“At least let me talk.” He heard San say when he turned around to leave and kept walking, only to be stopped by the excruciating pain crawling up his arm, unleashing its cobwebs to suffocate his lungs for a second. “Wooyoung-ssi-”</p><p>Wooyoung snapped his head back at San’s hand around his wrist, not even remotely tight enough that it should hurt as much as it did, but his clothes rubbed and scratched his skin and it hurt <em>so much</em>-</p><p>“Don’t. Ever. Touch me.” He hissed, venom clinging to his whisper and making San drop his hand almost immediately with fear in his eyes and felt it. He felt the pain scratch and pulse under his skin, shredding it to pieces to get out and bit his tongue until he tasted iron not to make any noise.</p><p>He wasn’t sure exactly when he walked out of Choi San’s apartment under Choi San’s utterly confused gazes, wasn’t exactly sure if he walked down the stairs or took the elevator, wasn’t sure where he was or what he was supposed to do but all he knew, all that conquered his consciousness at that moment was the pain. The immense amount of pain pulsing under his skin, straining his breathing, making black or white dots float in front of his eyes and block his vision and he hoped, hoped that he wasn’t making any sound, that he wasn’t screaming bloody murder because if even one person saw him, heard him then-</p><p>He remembered collapsing under the stairs close to the back door, fishing out his phone and tasting maybe actual blood on his tongue as he heard Yunho’s voice over the speaker asking him where he was in detail, closing eyes for a couple of seconds then seeing Hongjoong’s blue head hurting his tired eyes as he crouched to see if he was dead yet, Yunho standing behind him in his long beige coat, daring to say something along the lines of “Damn, you look battered.” with a slightly crooked smile curling his lips.</p><p>He also was pretty sure he heard Hongjoong ask if he wanted him to stay with him through it as he was laying on his bed, all of his clothes deliberately taken off to avoid too much friction, answered no, he didn’t need company but Hongjoong still walked out of the room and told Yunho to stay with him until he passed out.</p><p>“<em>Hi.</em>”</p><p>The familiar back was turned around to let the man in his dreams face him but all he could see was not a face but hair as black as the night sky above their heads, shining like the stars blinking down at them. He did not see, was not <em>allowed</em> to see but he knew that he was smiling.</p><p>“<em>I really wanted to see you today.</em>”</p><p>Right. He already had company.</p><p> </p><p>“He touched me!”</p><p>Yunho took a breath so deep as he rested his chin over his knuckles that his head probably spun a little.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, look-”</p><p>“I will <em>not</em> look!” Wooyoung stopped marching up and down Yunho’s office and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, eyebrows raised high in annoyance. “This is literally all your fault for making me his personal assistant in the first place.”</p><p>Yunho rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his huge office chair. “I keep telling you I was only consulted.”</p><p>“And I keep telling you I will not be his assistant but you’re the one that does not let me go.”</p><p>“Once again, that’s not my decision to make.”</p><p>“Yunho-yah, I’m telling you he literally triggered my attack, do you seriously want to do this to me?” He begged. Yunho slowly pushed his chair back, walked up to Wooyoung standing in front of his desk and leaned his hip on it, one hand casually inside his pants pocket.</p><p>“What are you gonna do then?”</p><p>Wooyoung scowled at the uneasy feeling in his gut. “I will resign and fuck off to some other company and never see his face again.”</p><p>He could see Yunho smile only a bit. “Then what?”</p><p>“Then, I-”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” Yunho interrupted, his shoulders relaxed and the smile still present, not up to his eyes like they never were. “You know I cannot protect you if you work somewhere else.”</p><p>Wooyoung gulped.</p><p>“Sure, hyung will come running at you anywhere you need it outside your work, I will help you whenever I have the time, but what about at work? Do you know how many times I cover for you when you need to use the file room? Can you risk people knowing if you work somewhere else?”</p><p>“Did I ask you to?” Wooyoung frowned. “I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m doing fine on my own.”</p><p>“That’s not what it seemed like when you puked all over my car yesterday.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked as his mind lagged and printed out blank for a second. “Umm…”</p><p>“You puked all over hyung too but he’s too nice to hold you accountable.”</p><p>“How does me fucking up your car even correlate to anything?!” He yelled once more, not even caring if the bystanders overheard them at this point. Yunho chuckled with his enormous shoulders shaking as he did so.</p><p>“I am saying this for the last time, I will <em>not</em> be his assistant.” Wooyoung hissed as he poked Yunho’s chest and did not give a shit about the stinging at the tip of his finger. “I will never. I <em>refuse</em>.”</p><p>He turned around and paced out of the room, slamming the door at Yunho’s smirk too smug for his own good.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you see the assistant manager’s head?” One of the two interns passing by whispered with a giggle.</p><p>“He’s not assistant manager now, though, is he?” The other whispered back, covering his mouth with a hand. “Is marriage getting to his head? What was that huge bump?”</p><p>“Bet he fainted again. You know how they say he keeps fainting out of the blue?”</p><p>“Yeah, what is it about that? Is he sick or something?”</p><p>The other shook her shoulders. “Dunno.”</p><p><em>He should’ve hit it harder</em>, Wooyoung thought.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. a bottle of red, a bottle of rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh wow this is Not getting regular updates lol<br/>enjoy everyone constantly getting drunk for no reason  &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wooyoung loved quiet evenings.</p><p>“Hyung, but can you believe this??” He said as he finished setting up the plates on the table for two people. Seonghwa smiled and passed him a stack of beer and tall glasses to hold all the bubbles in. “Believe what, Wooyoung-ah?”</p><p>“Hyung, I’m telling you, first his evil fiancé made me watch her ugly feet, then his tyrant mother scolded me for something not even about him and I had to just stand there and nod!”</p><p>The moon was shining over the table for only the two of them, the stars were blinking over their heads prettily, even though Wooyoung knew they were nothing but some screens part of the colossal dome looming over them. Wooyoung liked these kinds of nights they would spend at his hyung’s flat, with the whole city and its lights that looked like another set of starts under their feet through the huge window Wooyoung was very fond of. His own house was nowhere near this beautiful.</p><p>“If they’re treating you this bad, tell your manager, Wooyoung-ah.” Seonghwa said through a concerned scowl as he placed the massive plate of food in his hands right in the middle of the nicely set table.</p><p>“Oh, I did.” Wooyoung nodded self-affirmatively. “I told him off so bad he looked like a rabbit in front of a laser.”</p><p><em>If anything, he looks like a cat</em>, something in Wooyoung’s mind disagreed.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Of course! I saw it reach right through his core.” Wooyoung put a proud smile on his face.</p><p>“But are you that close?”</p><p>The smile spreading Wooyoung’s lips faltered for a second before he pulled the chair he always took and sat down excitedly. “See, that’s why I’m so bothered that they invited me to their PR holiday, you know. It’s not like there is any work for an assistant there. What am I gonna do, run around dry their bodies and apply sunscreen as they swim and eat or make out or whatever-”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” Seonghwa interrupted with a gentle smile on his face, taking his own seat on the opposite side of the table. “I am not against your complaining or anything but this is <em>our </em>special dinner night, you know?”</p><p>Wooyoung widened his eyes until a sheepish smile squeezed them smaller. “You’re right, hyung, it’s just that they get under my skin so much… Anyways, how was your day?”</p><p> </p><p>“…then I hit my toe against the office table so hard it was swollen for a whole week.”</p><p>The clink of the cutlery against their plates. Seonghwa’s giggle as he stuffed his mouth with a big bite of his fancy chicken.</p><p>“Well at least they gave you some days off but still, hyung, you should be more careful- oh, that reminds me: do you wanna know what happened the other day?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened with pure enthusiasm. “Choi San came to the office with a huge-ass bump on his head the other day too.” He giggled, a picture of what he imagined the bump was like in front of his eyes. “I didn’t see it, but apparently he fainted and hit his head, everyone was whispering about how he faints all the time and-”</p><p>A startle held his tongue and widened his eyes when he realized Seonghwa’s amused stare with slightly annoyed undertones.</p><p>“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah… You’re almost acting like a high schooler. It’s kind of endearing, actually,”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“You know, like someone who can’t stop talking about their crush and all, you always link the conversation to him.”</p><p>Wooyoung’s memory of the years he later realized were high school years was some worn-out books he found during one of his <em>treasure hunts </em>which were initially about finding food or clothing. The books belonged to someone named Han Jisoo, by the faded-out nametag attached to them a long time ago and the covers specifically said they were for 2nd-year high school students and the subject was history. Wooyoung really enjoyed reading them whenever he could till one day he left them out in the rain, and they got ruined forever. So yeah, his <em>high school </em>experience was just him reading faded paragraphs about a thousand years old events, but apparently, it was also a time to have crushes?</p><p>Wooyoung recognized how they had totally different high school experiences but still couldn’t oppose something else this hard.</p><p>“Hyung, are you hearing yourself? Isn’t it clear that I despise him and everything he stands for? Also, why would I be crushing on a man?”</p><p>The smile over Seonghwa’s plush lips was soft, carefree. “Why not?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked once, twice, watched Seonghwa chew the perfectly cooked chicken between his perfectly aligned teeth as he kept going on and on about his stupid colleagues and work accidents and thought, <em>why not?</em></p><p> </p><p>“San, look here!”</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes as subtly as he could manage without them popping out and rolling on the floor until they hit the sunbed he was sitting over, or worse, without being caught. Choi San stopped dozing off to something and actually looked in the direction of the camera Kang Sora’s assistant was pointing at them. A smile that went from 0 to 100 in a second lit up his face and gave him pretty dimples. Wooyoung wanted to smack it off his face.</p><p>Kang Sora’s smile as she held San’s shoulder and posed like she was actually able to possess any kind of love in that rotten heart of hers, on the other hand, was not even worth a smack. Wooyoung took out his phone from the pocket of his pink swim shorts with little bananas as design and replied Hongjoong’s text about if he needed something from three days ago, just out of boredom.</p><p>The holiday was fine, for the most part. He had his own separate room (as otherwise would be immensely unbearable), had access to everything on the menu (complimentary), and got to have serenity at times Kang Sora and Choi San did not require intense babysitting. A heavy feeling loomed over his heart and churned his gut from time to time, though, because while the holiday was fine, it was too much like a <em>holiday</em>.</p><p>The sun shined on his bare skin and tingled warmly. His sunglasses were filtering the world with a soft pink color.</p><p>“This much should be enough.” Kang Sora said after another 15 minutes of posing, her smile cracking on the sides to show her true faces before vanishing completely. Her assistant who was so new that Wooyoung didn’t know the name of smiled awkwardly as Kang Sora snatched the camera off her hands.</p><p>“I think I can figure it out.” She sighed as her slim fingers slid through many photos with distaste. “Take photos of me over there. The view is much better.”</p><p>Wooyoung heard the faint <em>yes </em>leave the assistant's lips as the two left for somewhere he did not care enough to check and thought if he looked like that around Choi San too. Probably not. Did that make him a lousy assistant? Or did Kang Sora have actual horns sticking out of her thick skull?</p><p>After a couple of seconds Choi San stood there watching after them like a lost puppy, his eyes caught up on Wooyoung sitting at the very edge of the sunbed, and Wooyoung witnessed the exact moment he made the decision of invading Wooyoung’s private space, a smile twisting his lips upwards once more. Dimples and all. “Nice glasses.” He said, sitting down at the vacant spot beside Wooyoung. Their knees slightly brushed against each other.</p><p>“Thanks. It makes the world look a little bit cuter than it actually is.”</p><p>A nod. An awkward silence that lasted enough for Wooyoung to feel every single sunray over his sensitive skin.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, do you remember when you fell into that pool?”</p><p>A child screaming his lungs out as he ran around the kiddie pool, his mom behind him trying to put on his little slippers to prevent the little feet from burning with the scorching heat of the tiles.</p><p>“Are you going to make fun of it months later?”</p><p>San’s giggle as it adequately drowned out any scream or chatter. “No, why would I make fun of that? It’s okay if you don’t know how to swim.”</p><p>Wooyoung properly rolled his eyes and prayed San was able to see it through the pink filter. He was. “Oh, how <em>considerate</em> of you.”</p><p>The dimples deepened like they were mocking Wooyoung in ways that made his gut tingle uncomfortably. Wooyoung found the feeling too familiar as of late. “I was just thinking you never thanked me for saving you back then.”</p><p><em>I thought about busting your brains out ever since instead</em>, Wooyoung thought. “Don’t remember telling you to save me.”</p><p>“Really?” San let another giggle shake his shoulders before he leaned back on his elbows, the artificial sun kissing his skin in the best ways possible and the shit-eating grin all over his face. “I’m pretty sure I heard a cry for help somewhere in there…”</p><p>Wooyoung frowned in doubt. “What?”</p><p>San nodded, too confident in himself. “Yeah. It was right between your feet slipping and the sound of your body crashing into the water.”</p><p>Wooyoung twisted his body, found San’s eyes looking into his as two soft slits, and frowned, even more, grumbled as silently as the burning passion to give Choi San the hardest blow across his head let him. “I wonder if you can hear anything if I smack you too…”</p><p>“Huh?” San pushed himself off his elbows and blinked cutely, trying to see Wooyoung’s face for 10 seconds straight in which Wooyoung ignored him. “What did you say, Wooyoung-ssi?”</p><p>The artificial sun shined over them and it felt oddly warm that day.</p><p>“San-ah, are you done there?” Kang Sora’s voice irritated. San’s head jerked back to see where the arms around his bare shoulders came from and Wooyoung worried about his neck for only a quarter of a second. “Ah- I-”</p><p>“Come on, let’s go do something else, I’m bored.” A voice that did not suit anywhere near Choi San as her breath licked his ear, the eyes that looked at Wooyoung’s own for a quarter of a second but were enough to make something churn painfully inside his guts.</p><p>“O- Okay.” San’s smile faltered before it left his lips permanently. “What do you wanna do then?”</p><p>A shrug. A tug that resulted in San stammering up to his knees, arms still around his shoulders. “I don’t know, let’s just go.”</p><p>Something vivid inside Wooyoung yelled at him to get up and leave immediately, but he opted to wait at least to hear the rest as Choi San and Kang Sora walked away, hand in hand, faces close and their backs proceeding further away.</p><p>“Spend some time with me, will you? You barely look at my face.”</p><p><em>Good riddance</em>, Wooyoung thought and bowed to the other assistant forsaken with the camera and Kang Sora’s huge poolside bag as he strolled back to his hotel room.</p><p>There would be countless occasions where Wooyoung would have to just suck it up and overlook his pride for the sake of safety, or just because he wouldn’t want to deal with the consequences of a backlash caused by his insurgency, or simply because he wouldn’t think it would make any changes. He would merely nod, say a <em>yes, sir,</em> or two with his head held low, or just disregard things openly targeted towards his downfall but it would always be with caution, come from a place of caution.</p><p>Always calm and collected, thought through, composed and <em>careful, careful, careful</em>.</p><p>So Wooyoung was not sure why he saw complete red when he was lazily strolling the path to his room in peace and serenity in their footsteps with a convenient distance in between, heard the voice that loved to scratch his ears diligently whine “Are you planning to spend all your time with your assistant? While it’s supposed to be <em>our</em> holiday?” and then snap at the muted response she got with an “I don’t even know why you insisted on bringing him over and made such a fuss, is some assistant more important than your fiancé? I told you countless times I don’t want him.”</p><p>Wooyoung halted his steps, watched the two walk further and further away from where he was standing, his skin burning uncontrollably with the fire in the pit of his stomach, and stomped the remaining path to his room after an angry swing of his imaginary cloak.</p><p> </p><p>It was past midnight when there was a knock on the door.</p><p>Wooyoung was barely done eating out the whole room service menu deliberately ordered and laid out in front of him, totally out of spite and not because he was actually hungry or anything, absolutely disregarding the fact that it wasn’t actually Choi San <em>or</em> Kang Sora that was paying but hoping that the former would at least get an earful for the outrageous bill. Why would he even care? The guy was supposed to be having the time of his life with his fiancé and Wooyoung was but a mere disturbance in the way, in theory, so Wooyoung was ready to be <em>even more</em> of a trouble in any possible way.</p><p>It wasn’t in his nature, anyways, to be a calm and dignified assistant or to have any kind of humane part in this fucked up society filled with ignorant imbeciles whose only trait was to be rich and pretty and who lived around the personal royalty they built out of hundreds of people’s pain and-</p><p>He cleared his throat along with the thoughts looming over his consciousness as a toxic green smoke, threw on a shirt, hissed at the pain of the fabric against his skin and the buttons between his fingertips he diligently disregarded the greasiness of as he did a couple of them on the way to the door. Whoever the person behind it was very adamant on making him hear their persistent knocks.</p><p>“I’m <em>coming</em>.” He hissed and figured it wouldn’t carry out through the high-quality wood so he threaded a couple of curses to follow before actually twisting the knob.</p><p>“You asleep?” Choi San slurred out, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe and grinning from ear to ear, hair a mess from fingers obviously run through it too many times and cheeks bearing a beautiful hue of red.</p><p>Wooyoung slammed the door on his face.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi!” The knocks were still persistent as Wooyoung walked back inside to bottom-up the wine with far too many zeros for the price tag. “Wooyoung-ssi, open up, I am sorry about whatever I did!”</p><p>Wooyoung carefully sat down on the bed and turned up some music, just enough to drown out the endless knocking.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, please!”</p><p>“I am sorry, I will never steal your share of the donuts anymore!”</p><p>Wooyoung slammed the bottle on the table nearby. “You WHAT?”</p><p>“Wait, you didn’t know? Why were you mad last week then?”</p><p>“Oh my fucking god…” A sigh escaped his already exhausted body as he resisted the urge to run a hand over his face or scratch at his skin and maybe trigger an attack so that he can conceivably pass out.</p><p>“Yah, Jung Wooyoung, show your pretty face!” He heard his manager yell outright in the middle of the hotel hallway of the floor that housed probably tens of other people trying to peacefully sleep and did not even remember the speed he beelined to the door to fling it open, grab a fistful of Choi San’s shirt and tug him inside just to slam it closed once more. It took another sigh so deep he felt his head spin a little to turn around and face the humongous pout the man in his late twenties was giving him.</p><p>“What do you want?” He said, enunciating every single word as slowly and clearly as he could without giving in to the buzzing of his hand.</p><p>“Where were you the whole day? I didn’t see you ever since we left the pool.”</p><p><em>Oh, yes, the pool, </em>Wooyoung almost screamed, <em>where you made me watch your cutesy couple shit and then fucked off to badmouth me.</em></p><p>Wooyoung wasn’t even sure why he was so pissed off about it.</p><p>“Here.” He deadpanned instead. “As you can see.”</p><p>San blinked once, twice, then turned around to pinpoint the minibar beside the television stand that Wooyoung did not stoop low enough to consume, grabbed a bottle of red wine by the neck and walked straight to the balcony. Wooyoung gawped after his slouchy footsteps as his brain tailored out a scene that he kept walking and walking and then nosedived from the 8<sup>th</sup> floor. “Wha- where are you going?”</p><p>“Let’s drink together, Wooyoung-ssi.” San slurred before he tripped over his own foot and air combined but was able to compose himself before actually becoming one with the shiny flooring and walking around with a split eyebrow for the rest of the holiday. Wooyoung thought about opposing and telling him to fuck off to his maliciously evil fiancé but something in him told him not to as he watched San struggle to unseal the cork with his bare hands. He took a deep breath, a corkscrew and two wine glasses, rolled his eyes when he walked out and saw that San was still poking at the cork tightly sealing the wine. He snatched the bottle, gave San the glasses and watched him smiling as he hugged them as he patiently waited.</p><p>“You will get it even more stuck, stop poking it.”</p><p>“Did you know, Wooyoung-ssi, a dozen people die every year because of corks?”</p><p>Wooyoung couldn’t hold the ugly cackle. “What, did you just weaponize me?” He took one of the glasses and adequately filled it after San took the corkscrew away from his hand with a smile.</p><p>“I don’t think Wooyoung-ssi would ever hurt me,” San murmured, his lips red with the wine he dipped them into after Wooyoung provided it to him. Wooyoung looked away as he filled his own glass and tossed the half-full bottle on the table nearby. <em>If only he knew</em>, he thought, taking a small sip of his wine. A silence oddly comfortable fell over them as both leaned their elbows over the fancy railing.</p><p>“I could report you for barging into my room, you know,” Wooyoung murmured around the rim of the glass, could see San silently smiling around his own as he took a huge sip.</p><p>“Then I will tell you about my day, Wooyoung-ssi. Since you weren’t there to witness it today.”</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Do I have to absolutely listen to it?”</p><p>“Yes.” San nodded firmly. “I will use my manager's authority.”</p><p><em>Authority, my ass</em>, Wooyoung thought but did not voice it out for obvious reasons.</p><p>“First, we had our first fight right after we left the pool because she was being petty for no reason,” San said after a mouthful of wine gulped down and a long stare into the slim trunks of tall trees that Wooyoung couldn’t even see the leaves of. Surely, like the darkness surrounding them and the silver moon shining over them, they too were artificial.</p><p>“Then we went skydiving because she wanted to take photos up in the sky too, even though I told her multiple times that I am terrified of heights.”</p><p>Wooyoung snickered without even meaning to. “Did you pass out? Oh my god, did you vomit?”</p><p>“This is bullying, Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>“But did you?”</p><p>San did not answer as he emptied his wine into his mouth to fill out his red cheeks. Wooyoung bit his lip not to giggle further.</p><p>“Then we had our second fight because, yes, I did vomit and it got onto her hair and-”</p><p> “Oh my god…”</p><p>“-she was very upset about it.” San put his chin over the railing and puffed out his cheeks getting rosier by the second. “And I understand, no one would like vomit on their hair, but I did warn her multiple times and just-” He sighed the biggest sigh Wooyoung has ever seen. “Did I teach my stomach to be affected by sudden height changes, Wooyoung-ssi? How can I even prevent something like that?”</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t even have a chance to stop the smile creeping on his face as he grabbed the empty wine glass San was waggling around in the open air and filled it with the pungent red liquid once more. San whispered a grateful <em>thank you </em>through his pouty lips and kept swirling the liquid in the air to watch it crash into the walls of the tall glass.</p><p>“When it was time for dinner I suggested we eat some steak and, I don’t know, some wine, maybe, and she was like ‘No, I eat steak only at this place I go to every week, how dare you don’t know that, I don’t even know how I’m going to marry you' and just-” He took another big sip and Wooyoung almost told him to slow it down a little but decided not to. “She literally never told me that, I never witnessed it happening even though we’ve been together for almost 3 months now and, Wooyoung-ssi, it’s not even about only today, I am just-”</p><p>San stopped, put his forehead over the railing where his chin was, squeezed his eyes shut, and gulped down the lump in his throat. “I don’t know why this keeps happening, aren’t we supposed to be almost perfectly compatible? Is this the 3 percent left acting up?”</p><p><em>No, it’s the bullshit acting up</em>, Wooyoung was preventing himself from saying when-</p><p>“Is the test really full of crap after all?..”</p><p>Wooyoung gulped down the wine bulging his cheeks in boredom and blinked at the man with tears shining at the corners of his eyes, staring emptily through the liquid painting the hollow trees red. Did Choi San, the very man who was the main focus of PR for the soulmate testing system, the one with a 97 percent match rate to his fiancé and was supposed to be the epitome of a perfect relationship facilitated by the comprehensive testing process, really say the test was, and Wooyoung quoted, <em>full of crap</em>?</p><p><em>Would make the headlines</em>, Wooyoung thought as he cursed himself for not putting up a camera, a smirk that he tried concealing with a huge sip of his wine twisting his lips.</p><p>“San-ssi, I think you trust me too much.”</p><p>“There is something about you, Wooyoung-ssi.” San whispered after another sip that emptied his glass once more, his cheek squished against his hand on the metal railing, the tear that was ready to free-fall finally doing so and pooling above the perfect line of his nose. “I have this feeling that I have to trust you.”</p><p>“A feeling?” Wooyoung frowned and realized his vision was slightly blurry at the sides.</p><p>“But you keep getting mad at me…” San disregarded Wooyoung’s confusion as another tear joined the one just chilling there. “I don’t know what I do wrong and you always, always show me the scowl and not your smile even once, it is so sad.” More tears joined the other two until they piled enough to drip down his nose and onto his hand. “I am sure it is pretty too, and all I wanna do is make Wooyoung-ssi at least content but you always just-”</p><p>Wooyoung let out a defeated sigh before he crouched down to level San’s face staring emptily at nothing, leaned his head slightly towards the side. “San-ssi. Aren’t you a bit too much of a people pleaser?”</p><p>“Yes. Yes, I am.” San let a sloppy giggle shake his shoulders, eyes still unfocused. “Do I try to please anyone else this hard though?..”</p><p>Wooyoung frowned once more. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“You know-”</p><p>The wine glass San was dangling off his hand slipped and freefell about eight floors.</p><p>“The gla-” Wooyoung slightly attempted to catch it but could not as the sound of glass cracking and shattering into pieces echoed in the tranquility of the night. He held San’s shirt and pulled him and himself down to hide from any possible complaints or accusations of attempting on someone’s life.</p><p>“Dude, what the fuck?” Wooyoung whisper shouted as he widened his eyes, holding San by the shoulders.</p><p>San blinked, mind hazy and incomprehensive. “Ah, sorry, it just slipped-”</p><p>“Pfft, I wish someone was passing by…” Wooyoung wholeheartedly giggled as he stole mischievous glances between the railing and the floor several dozen meters below until he turned his head around and saw San’s pretty cloudy eyes staring at him in a daze. His smile slowly dropped.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> beautiful…” San whispered and Wooyoung took a few seconds to decipher that he meant his <em>fucking smile</em>.</p><p><em>Um</em>. <em>Abort mission, abort mission</em></p><p>“Get up. We need to go inside.” He grumbled with a tiny fist to San’s shoulder, his cheeks reflecting the red of the other’s. Surely because of the one or two glasses of wine he had consumed. Nothing else.</p><p>He was not exactly sure how they ended up laying on the same bed facing each other -something about it being too late for San to go back to his room and there being little to no other sleep-friendly surfaces-, certainly with respectable distance in between but enough that Wooyoung felt San’s steady breathing reach his arm resting over the pillow from time to time ever since he touched his head to his own and immediately started his journey into dreamland.</p><p>Wooyoung was not sure how he ended up watching the fluttering of San’s lashes in his sleep, how his chest rose up and down, how his wine-stained lips were slightly agape to let his warm breath free.</p><p>He was not sure for how long he laid there staring with the fermented delicacy in his system blocking his sense of time, but he realized Choi San’s lashes almost reached his rosy cheeks, his midnight black hair panned over his forehead and looked so soft and silky that Wooyoung almost reached out and touched before his hazy thinking mechanism yelled <em>PAIN</em> three times in a row.</p><p>Choi San had a neck of flesh-colored dots over his skin, in varying sizes and shapes, some cluttering to seem larger and some large on their own, a couple in the center that were darker in color, almost as black as his hair. <em>Freckles</em>, Wooyoung had to remind himself. But was calling them only freckles enough in its own? Didn’t they look like the stars on a dark night shining and blinking down at them? Not even the artificial screen reflected ones inside the wall; the ones you would see on the other side of it, brighter than people never been there could ever imagine, twinkling beautifully to captivate you for hours and lose your sleep. Wooyoung knew how enthralling they would be.</p><p>Or didn’t they look like crunchy hot sand under your feet when you go to the beach and they fixed the weather to fit the warmness of the holiday season like they always do. Like the hot sand sprinkled over his skin and stayed there to make pretty shapes, making Wooyoung wonder if he could touch them it would feel warm.</p><p><em>One, two</em>, Wooyoung counted, started over because one star twinkled too hard it blinded him. <em>One, two, three</em>…</p><p>Wooyoung blinked and lost count once again, giggled silently, carefully so he didn’t wake San up. He wondered where the stars borrowed their shine from, how the sand was so warm and if it would feel warm if he could just reach out and touch them.</p><p>Only if he could.</p><p> </p><p>The wind howling in his ear. The raw soil under his palms.</p><p>“Why are we here?” Wooyoung whispered just before he opened his eyes, worried he might not be heard. The sun burned his pupils mercilessly just like it had burning his skin for a while. He was surprised to realize the pleasant warmth it reflected.</p><p>“Because I need to jump.” The man sitting beside him said calmly. Wooyoung did not dare turn his head towards the voice as he watched loose soil break free from between his fingers and freefall right between the thick fog hovering over the ocean that Wooyoung knew was there, heard was there but could not see even a tiny bit of serene blue. The soil fell, fell and disappeared into the white blanket hugging the cliff at the sides, Wooyoung watched with a light heart as he dangled his feet freely.</p><p>“Why?” He asked, a worried quiver to his voice. Another wave angrily licked the sharp rocks poking the fog to show their pointy heads several meters under their feet and all Wooyoung could do was listen to its ire. A silence.</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“Then why do you have to jump?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>know</em>.” The man emphasized. “I have to prove I’m not scared.”</p><p>“To whom?”</p><p>“I- I don’t know. I’m not sure, I can never be sure anymore.”</p><p>Wooyoung watched the evening sun turn more orange by the second. “But aren’t you scared?”</p><p>Another silence. The melody the wind carried from the villages people would be happy, singing and dancing to it.</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>The waves washed the tips of the sharp rocks and disturbed the thick white blanket on top of them where they attempted to poke holes and failed as white smoke geysers formed instead. Wooyoung thought the white smoke would swallow both pair of their feet until it disappeared.</p><p>“Then let’s jump together.” He said, finding the man’s hand and squeezing it firmly. He could feel the objection without even a glance.</p><p>“No. This has nothing to do with you, you don’t have to jump-”</p><p>Wooyoung let an easy smile curl his lips. “Hey. Do you know why we’re <em>both</em> here?”</p><p>The man stayed in a confusion etched silence for a second. “T-to jump-”</p><p>“No.” Wooyoung interrupted as he watched the white smoke twist and revolt up to lap at their feet deviously, inviting. “As in, why are we here, sitting next to each other? Why does the sun feel warmer, why is the soil under my palms finer?”</p><p>The man slowly gulped, waited another two seconds, hesitating. “Why?”</p><p>“Do not be scared.” Their fingers interlaced like they would never be torn apart again, fit into each other like nothing else ever did. Wooyoung thought the man’s skin was softer than the softest thing he had come to touch. “We will be together down there too.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” The man asked hesitantly but held Wooyoung’s hand tighter anyways. Wooyoung smiled as he took one last glance at the sun floating in the sky, edges still a warm shade of orange.</p><p>“Why don’t you listen to your soul?”</p><p>The smile over the man’s face shined brighter than the sun seething warmth under their skin, a warmth that traveled through their fingertips and pooled in both of their stomachs to make both of them feel safe. Wooyoung took a deep breath of courage and looked at the man’s face, his closed eyes and beautiful smile as they fell, fell and first let the white smoke, then the endless blue and slick surfaces of the sharp rocks swallow their bodies, but it was okay. Maybe their bodies froze as they floated in the ice-cold water, maybe they were torn into pieces that scattered all over the pointy rocks but they were together, just like Wooyoung promised. Even if their skin did not shine under the orange rays of the evening sun anymore, it was okay.</p><p>The slight shadow of the man’s features almost fit like puzzle pieces in his head and his insides tickled with excitement and fear, only to feel the warmth of the sunrays and the stinging cold of the blue water embracing their bodies slowly dissipate into nothingness.</p><p>                                                                                                             </p><p> </p><p>“A’ight, guys, this will conclude our meeting but please do not forget to pick up your free shaving kit on your way out.” Yoo Kwan finished her words with a polite hand towards the door of the meeting room where a bunch of small boxes stood above a table, clearly a product of the latest sponsorship facilitated by their amazing PR team.</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes as the room full of middle-aged people ran towards the door to get themselves one, put his pen over his electronic notepad and raised his head to see Choi San still sitting on his seat in front of where Wooyoung stood. Apparently, it was an unspoken rule for personal assistants to stand behind their managers during the meetings, this PR team meeting discussing how good of a job they did back in the holiday and how they would further better their successful steps into making every single person with social media access think they are the best soulmate testing company being no exception. Wooyoung would’ve been totally okay with it, not like the total of probably 3 times he was allowed to attend meetings before he became a personal assistant did not require him standing up for at least 40 minutes, <em>and</em> beside the door like the interns and office assistants were mere disposables, but to be so close to Choi San after that day-</p><p><em>Ugh</em>, Wooyoung thought as his mind played a broken record of how they woke up on the same bed the morning after Choi San’s slightly drunk attics, then <em>heavily</em> drunk attics, almost jumping off the bed in a cold sweat the odd dream he had initiated, just to see Choi San with the same type of bewilderment written all over his face until Wooyoung smacked him out of his hotel room to make him go find his fiancé or whatever. Choi San seemed to be mostly fine with sharing a drunk bed with his personal assistant but Wooyoung tended to avoid him like the plague ever since.</p><p>He was also not sure why being only a step away from him all throughout the meeting felt actually reassuring. Details to be disclosed, probably never.</p><p>His phone broke into an annoying vibration in his blazer pocket and he stopped stabbing daggers in Choi San’s nape discussing some stuff Wooyoung was not able to hear because of the chaos in front of the door. He fished it out of his pocket to see the caller ID. The screen read <em>Noona</em>.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi!” He heard the familiar voice call out for him on his way out, sneaking and crashing into people as his ears felt like they were filled with sand and his nerves felt like they were burning every time someone even barely touched his shoulders and maybe arms. His ears were filled with sand to let only one voice in but Wooyoung had to just-</p><p>He waited until he found somewhere relatively safer and deserted to actually pick up the phone.</p><p>“Noona, what-”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, congratulations!”</p><p>He froze on the spot at the glee at her voice. “W- what do you mean?”</p><p>“You got promoted, right?” She beamed like she was actually happy about the promotion itself, her tinny voice over the line shaky like the line could break any time. “What is it, some kind of personal assistant? You’ve been stuck being the trash collector of the office, it was bound to happen, yes.”</p><p>Wooyoung considered his options. He could just hang up and scream right then and there not giving a shit about it being a very busy workday, resulting in probably getting fired, or he could just start sobbing and begging Jiyoung’s mercy for not informing her about his probably temporary promotion, which would direct curious gazes on him anyways. He chose to slowly gulp instead. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Do you think I’m dumb, Wooyoung-ah?” He could hear the shit-eating grin through the speaker with ease. “Whoever you need to be fucking around is more well-known than you thought, I actually have a million proof of your obvious position change.”</p><p><em>Of course</em>, Wooyoung thought. He was too careless. His lips parted for an objection of last resort but were easily beaten to it. “Twice the amount you were sending me. Make sure it’s in my hands by the next Monday.”</p><p>He didn’t realize he was widening his eyes until he felt the corners burn along with where his shirt rubbed his irritated skin under his suit. “Noona, I don’t have- I don’t even get <em>paid</em> that much, for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>“How many times do I have to tell you, my little brother?” Jiyoung let her singsong be heard over the thick male voice rambling something beside her, Wooyoung’s ears too filled to the brim and overflowing with dry sand to actually register what was being said. “I. Do not. Care. Times are tough in here. Your disloyal bitchass living that comfortable life wouldn’t know what goes on out of the wall, but I need money. Quick.”</p><p>Wooyoung felt something hot and angry burn inside him. “Noona, I seriously don’t have that mu-”</p><p>“Find it. Take loans, they give them out in there, right? I don’t care.”</p><p>“You know it doesn’t fucking work like that.” He hissed into the receiver. “I will not be taking loans to fund your drug addiction, fucking hell. It’s that prick beside you, right? Am I going to send you money so you two can hit it up and eat smoke for dinner every day, like, noona, please-”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi?” The familiar voice called out once more and all the sand inside Wooyoung’s ears poured out in a steady stream, suddenly making every sound in the world sound clear again. Wooyoung did not even think twice before rush hitting end call and turning around to see Choi San standing behind him with the most worried look he had ever seen directed at him, probably his whole life. Maybe Hongjoong looked at him like that from time to time when his life kept collapsing in on itself pathetically. It tended to happen quite frequently, as shown in exhibit A.</p><p>“Is there something wrong?” Choi San asked again, the same worry etched all over his teeth rotting sweet voice and Wooyoung was <em>sick of it</em>. “Do you need money? Is there something urgent going on?”</p><p>Wooyoung pried his eyes away from San’s worried frown and directed his own one slanted with anger and the feeling of being trapped, landed it easily at one particular head turned their way curiously at the end of the hall he was previously hiding in. A cold rush replaced a fraction of anger mercilessly burning inside him, leaving fear behind. How much of it did they hear? How much of the phone call was Choi San able to listen to? Was he finally done for?</p><p><em>Careless</em>, something in his brain screamed. <em>You were too careless, careless, careless.</em></p><p>
  <em>You deserve anything that comes your way.</em>
</p><p>“It’s none of your business.” He snapped at the tender eyes looking at him with so much concern for some fucking reason before he turned around to leave from the other side of the hallway, squeezing the transparent device passing as a cellphone between his fingers too much that his knuckles turned white. “<em>Do not</em> dare follow me.”</p><p>His skin burned and his eyes hurt and the tips of his fingers felt like they were being cut into a thousand pieces while still attached as he left Choi San just standing there, but it was okay. He deserved anything the life hurled at him like there was no tomorrow anyways.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. primavera</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Soul Con:vention was a major event held every year to facilitate a platform for almost every functioning soulmate testing company to showcase their abilities as scammers that bring two oblivious people and tell them they have to spend all their lives together since their character tests said so, and various sponsors to leach off the show’s immense popularity amongst the curious general public since they too were vultures hungry for drama and magazine.</p><p>Or something like that. Wooyoung was not sure of the details.</p><p>The research he had done seemed to be accurate for the most part anyways, depending on the manifold of reporters all lined up just before the red carpet and the huge stage set up for the <em>soulmates</em>, the very products of the companies submitted to compete for the throne of being the best manufactured couple ever.</p><p>Wooyoung had come to learn the event’s concept was not competition of matchmaking mainly and it was a special occasion for only this year’s convention, since the lives of test matched couples were too obsessed over lately, even more ever since Kang Sora and Choi San matched with a 97% match rate. <em>How convenient</em>, Wooyoung thought as he eyed a woman and man go down the red carpet with countless flashes going off in their faces, not even causing a flinch on neither of their faces. Even Choi San’s match rate was there to annoy him to great extents.</p><p>“I seriously can’t believe I have to spend all my night at this shitshow…” He whispered mostly to himself and earned a giggle in return.</p><p>“Oh, is Wooyoungie already bored?” Hongjoong teased from where he was clinging to his soulmate’s arm and simply watching the makeshift runway with an excited hop to his feet that Wooyoung was not sure about the reason of. It could’ve been literally anything, the cute houseplants he had might’ve been thriving, or someone he saved from out of the wall could’ve healed from worst of their deep wounds. Wooyoung remembered how giggly his hyung was when he was fine enough to talk again.</p><p>He often wanted to smack it off his face but knew Yunho would chop his whole arm off if so much as he tried.</p><p>Instead, he chose to roll his eyes at the man getting his feet tangled in the woman’s long dress on their way off the stage and give the cameras a show of almost having faceplanted. As a couple, for sure.</p><p>“We won’t be here for too long, Wooyoungie, don’t worry.” He heard Hongjoong say as the couple left the makeshift posing space with faces as red as the carpet under their feet and turned his head around to see Yunho and him walking away into the occupied crowd. Hongjoong waved at him with the biggest smile on his face and the other arm still linked to Yunho’s as Yunho showed him his large back with the beige colored trench coat he apparently never took off. “I’ll see you later, but if I don’t, come to dinner sometime, okay?”</p><p><em>More like never</em>, he thought but did not voice it out as he watched the two get lost between the hungry photographers getting even more fired, with a bicker of their own that resolved in 1.3 seconds and concluded with another giggle from Hongjoong and a disgustingly fond smile from Yunho. Wooyoung was almost envious of how they did not give two shits about the homophobia stinking stares they received every time they were too close and happy. <em>Another reason to hate in-wall people.</em></p><p>He took a rushed step back when a photographer jumped in front of him to get a better angle of whoever was on the red carpet and Wooyoung thought his time standing there had come to an end before he turned over the ball of his feet to wander away from the chaos for a bit.</p><p>His spirit of inquiry was hindered a couple steps deviating from the chaos though.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah?” Seonghwa yelled too enthusiastically after an overdramatic gasp and a high arm wave. Wooyoung blinked at the unexpected face between all the other tar covered faces.</p><p>“Hyung? What are you doing here?”</p><p>They walked and stopped with only a couple centimeters in between, toes facing each other, a huge smile on Seonghwa’s face that made his eyes starry eyes crinkle at the sides and Wooyoung with a content one.</p><p>“I thought you would be here, but I was too busy to check up on you.” Seonghwa said excitedly over the upbeat music now starting to torment their ears. Wooyoung seemed to be the only person that lacked enthusiasm tonight. “My company is here as a sponsor.”</p><p>“Ah, really?” Wooyoung nodded, mostly to himself and watched Seonghwa nod in response.</p><p>After a boring chitter chat about if Wooyoung was here alone or as the personal assistant and where his <em>stupid</em> manager was, that even being with Seonghwa could not save, they found themselves judging the hall of fame meanly just for the sake of not dying out of boredom.</p><p>“We both agree that dress is whack, right?” Seonghwa murmured, his arms crossed over his chest and knuckles under his chin, eyebrows furrowed in fake determination. Wooyoung silently giggled as a woman with a yellow dress and an overdone updo walk beside her uptight “soulmate”.</p><p>“Yeah, I can’t even comment on that…”</p><p>Another pair stepped over the red carpet before their time, so the yellow dressed woman glared back at them on her and her soulmate’s way out of the spotlight.</p><p>“I think he should’ve used a tie instead of a bow…” Wooyoung whispered with a baby lean towards Seonghwa and Seonghwa nodded his head a bit too enthusiastically. “Also, those shoes are not the shoes to wear to a red carpet. Do they not have stylists?”</p><p>The smile lingering on his face deepened in amusement as he shrugged, felt the rub of fabric over his skin but thought the vivid lights over his head were a lot more overwhelming. “Probably not, with the way his hair is styled.”</p><p>Seonghwa giggled, a laugh that moved his broad shoulders and made him cover his mouth shyly and Wooyoung was somehow relieved someone familiar was here, only an arm’s width distance apart. There just were too many people around.</p><p>“Ah, here’s your manager.” Seonghwa teased after another batch of couples that Wooyoung was too distracted to count walked past the red carpet to clean the way for the emphasis of the night: 97% percent perfect match rate.</p><p>“Yeah…” Wooyoung murmured dismissively as Choi San walked with all the elegancy Wooyoung had ever seen in his life, matched with Kang Sora’s airy red dress that Wooyoung painfully admitted was very pretty, with a smile on his face that turned his eyes into cute little crescents and revealed his dimples as deep as Wooyoung’s discomfort with literally everything about this night.</p><p><em>Make sure to watch me when I walk in, okay? </em>He remembered San chirp with the newfound blowing friendship(?) between them over the past couple of weeks, a product of the night of confessions they had at the honeymoon/just some vacation holiday. <em>I will make sure to pose very coolly.</em></p><p><em>Yeah, sure, of course I will make sure to watch you make a fool out of yourself.</em> He responded somewhere between Choi San breaking into a high-pitched giggle that he recently started letting Wooyoung hear and Kang Sora walking in to drag him away and causing the humongous smile to disappear in seconds like it never happened, taking the dimples along with it.</p><p><em>The fucking dimples</em>, Wooyoung thought as his skin started buzzing in the rhythm the flashes started going off in speeds that should not be in human capability, adding to the irritation all the people talking and the heat of the too many lights over illuminating the makeshift award show under the huge tent over their heads. Without the awards, surely.</p><p>“Hyung, I will step out for a while.” He said over Seonghwa’s comment about Kang Sora’s hair having too much spray on and sticking up like a hedgehog. Seonghwa immediately stopped to snap his head in his direction, obviously checking for any signs of discomfort. “Why? Is there something wrong? I can come with you if you want.”</p><p>“No, no.” Wooyoung immediately opposed. “It’s fine, I’m just kinda overwhelmed.”</p><p>Seonghwa followed him outside the huge tent housing the event anyways.</p><p>“Hyung, why aren’t you taking the test?” Wooyoung asked once they were stationed above a huge decorative rock with the scenery of the whole city under their feet, midnight black sky over their heads, just that it wasn’t midnight yet. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what time it was since they were running around ever since the artificial sun sneaked its rays between the curtains back at the office.</p><p>Seonghwa let a laugh shake his shoulders as he watched the lights look like flickering on and off periodically. “Didn’t we talk about the same thing countless times?”</p><p>Wooyoung followed where his eyes were pointed at and saw people look like microscopic ants as he too laughed at the obvious. “I know, but, you could get an insanely high match rate and be like one those people inside, given the right to be a celebrity just like that.”</p><p>“Maybe.” Seonghwa shrugged. “I’m sure there are people that take tests just to take a shot at it. But I don’t think it’s worth the shot.”</p><p>A car passed by the road just below them and illuminated the people running around for a second. “Why not?”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” A soft whisper. “Don’t you think it should be life that shows us who we’re supposed to be with, or if we will ever be with someone at all?” He tapped his fingers on his own arm to maybe organize his thoughts. “If I take the test, I will match with someone anyways, right? Isn’t it also possible that I match with five people at once with the same match rate, or that I have to spend my life with a person that had higher match rate but maybe I was going to be a lot happier with a 15%?”</p><p>Wooyoung wondered what would Hongjoong and Yunho’s match rate would be.</p><p>“I don’t think the people walking under strong lights over a red carpet inside are actually happy, to be honest. I don’t know if I will be, either, but I think I’m doing perfectly fine for now.” A smile at peace curled Seonghwa’s lips as he watched the starts reflecting over the huge screens over their head. Wooyoung too smiled as he thought <em>that’s why you’re the only non-sufferer I will ever let in my life</em>.</p><p>“We should go inside.” Wooyoung said when the little device with a small light on top and <em>staff</em> written in bold captions started flickering in green after another couple minutes of empty chattering. “The stage should be starting by now.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>When they stepped inside the tent once more the eager photographers were at the side of the huge stage set up for god knows what, with a number of cocktail tables scattered around in front of it sophisticatedly, like polka dots.</p><p>“Ah, Wooyoung-ssi!” He heard not even five steps in and stopped to let Choi San catch up to them with dead fisheyes.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He saw Seonghwa’s eyes widen in panic and bewilderment from the corner of his eyes and couldn’t see any reason why.</p><p>“Where were you?” San said when he finally could go past the million cables and another million cameras currently turned off. “I’ve been looking for you for the longest time.”</p><p>“Out.” Wooyoung said dismissively. “With hyung.” He quickly added. Seonghwa awkwardly smiled at San when he turned his head around to finally acknowledge him with a frown on his face that immediately transformed into a huge smile. “Oh, nice to meet you. Are you actual brothers?”</p><p>“Oh, no, no.” Seonghwa denied straight away as his gaze nervously went back and forth between the other two. Wooyoung steered the conversation immediately when all Seonghwa could do was rub his two fingers together, a nervous habit. “We’re just friends. He’s Park Seonghwa, this is Choi San.”</p><p>San nodded his head in affirmation. “Oh, I see. Nice to meet you again.” He reached a hand out, Seonghwa took it without hesitation. “Nice to meet you, too.”</p><p>“Did you watch me, Wooyoung-ssi?” San said with a proud smile on his face that occupied at least half of it effortlessly. Wooyoung didn’t know how he did it.</p><p>“Yes, you looked dumb, I witnessed.”</p><p>He could see Seonghwa’s face contorted in alarm and how San gaped like a goldfish in protest but could not bathe in it long enough to enjoy because the next thing he heard was the sound of every single electronic device going off inside the tent, including the huge lights and the smaller ones. A confused chatter accompanied the newly found silence now that the upbeat music and the silent humming of the electronics were gone.</p><p>“What’s going on?” He heard Seonghwa question from the side he previously was and San answer with a “The reactors should go up in a couple minutes, it’s okay.”</p><p>Wooyoung gulped as Hongjoong’s words reverberated in his mind alarmingly.</p><p>“Umm, I think we should find a way out-” He started with visible distress the unpleasant feeling in his chest made too hard to hide and was not even shocked when a blood curdling scream slashed the imitation silence in half. Terrified other screams blended into the confused voices and Wooyoung found every single hair on his body rise.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi-” He heard from his left and wouldn’t be able to recognize it if he hadn’t heard it countless times. The worry and seriousness to it was completely new, though.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, come this side-” He heard when his body was too heavy to react for a second too long, something in his chest constricting and expanding to obscure his breathing. As his eyes adjusted to dark all he could see was but a hundred people running around trying to fix whatever the fuck was happening and people kept talking and screaming and chattering-</p><p>His ears felt like he was underwater, his head felt like it was nothing but a dense rock on top of his shoulders.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, he thought, <em>fuck, not now.</em></p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, we should go, they’re saying the tent is-” San’s voice pierced through all the water and sand filling his ears and overflowing to cement his feet to the ground and it was clear, like it was perfectly isolated and polished just for Wooyoung’s ears that he felt bad he was not able to answer.</p><p>Why did it sound like that when everything else felt like they were hundreds of meters away and was through paper cups and a string? Was Seonghwa talking to him too?</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah!” He heard and recognized it as Seonghwa’s voice but before he could register the terror and fear in it, he was pushed with great force to the floor, a loud sound similar to a bell chiming and suppressing the frightened screams to leave a fake serenity behind.</p><p>Wooyoung tried to raise his head, arm, even leg to maybe take in even a quarter of what was going on but was met with pain, endless amounts of pain and suffering, needles and searing irons all over his skin and found the spare space in his agony filled mind to think, <em>fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck</em>-</p><p>He didn’t know if he was screaming or if he bit off a piece of his own lip by the time San’s worried sick face appeared in front of his, weirdly curtained and held too close because of it, his eyebrow was bleeding. </p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi…” He tried and got a weak whimper in return. Right, Wooyoung was lying on the floor, the curtain was the huge tent previously standing tall above their heads, right, Wooyoung was about to have an attack right this second under these circumstances. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>Wooyoung could see San try and get a response in return again but his ears were drowning in sand and gravel, sticky as they poured out in a gut wrenching warm stream out his poor ears edges of hiss vision blurry at the ends. Blinding little dots shined against his pupils as he could feel his body being moved, their background the color of despair but a shade more beautiful. His whole body felt something between being paralyzed and having invisible strings attached to his limbs, neck, eyelids and even lips as he managed to wheeze out a pathetic “Hurts-”, but the sticky sand kept pouring out of his ears anyways.</p><p>Wooyoung was not sure about the rest of <em>anything</em>.</p><p>The last thing he was sure about was the immense pain and the night breeze that was supposed to be refreshing making his skin feel like it was getting roasted in an oven and his legs give up under him.</p><p> </p><p>Flames. The red flames and their orange hue stuck in the air.</p><p>Wooyoung let a smile tug the corners of his lips upward as the heat licked at his feet, his arm under his head as he laid over the sunbed stationed beside the pool painted a vibrant shade of orange. A faint silhouette slowly walked closer, confused steps dragging their body beside Wooyoung’s sunbed to just stop and stand there for a second before they plopped over Wooyoung’s stomach, pushing all the air in his lungs just like that.</p><p>“What’s going on?” The man sitting comfortably over his belly said, his familiar voice calm and soothing like a cool breeze contrary to the orange scenery.</p><p>“I don’t know.” Wooyoung said as he opened his arms in invitation, his obnoxiously huge and intricately detailed sunglasses high up on his nose so it covered more than half of his face. The man had one of those on his own when he turned around to gently interlace their fingers and playfully rock back and forth. Wooyoung couldn’t find it in himself to tell him his dream guts were getting crashed.</p><p>“Isn’t it too hot to sunbathe?”</p><p>Wooyoung snickered. “Do you see any sun around?”</p><p>“Then what are you doing out here?”</p><p>“Would you rather be in there?” He pointed at the flames swallowing everything in their way to leave only red, yellow and orange behind.</p><p>The man looked over his shoulder to see ashes floating in the air but there was no smoke in sight. “I would rather be with you.”</p><p>Wooyoung wrapped his arms around the man’s slim waist and pulled him down to lay over his own body. “Yeah. Me too.”</p><p>The man complied with pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung felt something heavy over his hand.</p><p>He wasn’t sure since when he was out of the dreamland and his eyes were heavier than they ever felt but something was heavy over his hand. His skin buzzed with a familiar unpleasant feeling and a bitter taste lingered at the back of his throat, his brain feeling like cotton candy that’s been left out in the humidity for too long. A groan left his irritated throat and he tried once again to pry his eyes open and see the battered interior of his bedroom, but no.</p><p>When he finally triumphed against his own eyelids what he saw wasn’t his own old furniture mocking him mercilessly, but a mop of disheveled black hair over the white sheets. He blinked slowly, tried to dissolve the haze occupying his mind and failed until his eyes tracked his own arm to his hand and saw another hand over it, certainly not his own and definitely Choi San’s who jumped up the second Wooyoung pulled it back in absolute terror. The skin of his hand started pulsing in pain and Wooyoung cradled it with the other, sitting up and crawling back only a little as San’s eyes returned back to their regular size in relief.</p><p>“Ah, Wooyoung-ssi, you’re awake…” Wooyoung thought he sounded tired behind the veil of absolute panic over his logical thinking. He figured and recognized the room as San’s master bedroom, typed last night in the memories folder and the search came out almost nothing useful.</p><p>“Why am I here?” He tried to sound as unperturbed as possible but knew he failed the second he opened his mouth.</p><p>“I-” San stopped in confusion. “I brought you here. You don’t remember?”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Confusion only grew more as San searched for a suitable answer. “The rescuers carried us out in time since we were very close to the entrance, then I brought you here.” Wooyoung realized one half of his face was dark red in spots with scaling old blood.</p><p>“What-” He started and wanted to ask so many questions but his skin buzzing and his mind was hazy and his hand-</p><p>No way, right? There was no way, he was just confused and didn’t feel anything. It had to be.</p><p>“What happened yesterday?” He asked with as much calmness he could fathom at his rigid state of mind. San blinked a couple times until he could comprehend that Wooyoung was serious.</p><p>“There were some technical difficulties.” He nodded once to affirm himself. “First the electricity was cut down, then when we were waiting for the reactor to kick in, the huge tent housing the whole event collapsed.”</p><p>Wooyoung imagined an arch in his hand and a huge sheet with Hongjoong’s face printed over it in front of him. Yunho wasn’t there to stop his arrows when he was shooting them.</p><p>“You were unresponsive when the whole thing was going down and one of the main supports holding the tent near us fell over, so your friend had to push you out of the way.”</p><p>He remembered his name being called multiple times but feeling icky and sticky even inside his ears and not being able to comprehend anything, a nervous overwhelming problem his fucked up skin came with. He gulped slowly, the tension in his muscles starting to ache painfully like the constant buzzing was not enough.</p><p>“Why did you bring me here?” He repeated, visibly not satisfied with the answer he previously got.</p><p>San was weary as worry contorted his face. “You didn’t want to wait and visit a hospital. I was trying to maybe convince you, but you were too unresponsive, in a daze. Almost as if you were not there, Wooyoung-ssi, it was kind of scary.”</p><p>Wooyoung thought he had never seen him somehow like this before.</p><p>“I need to go.” He said as he tried his best to throw the sheets off himself and hop off the bed from the side Choi San was not camping on, the haze still lingering on his mind and obscuring his thought process like a thick fog.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, you should not be out of bed yet.” San said as he followed Wooyoung around trying to find his belongings around the room. “You were in a pretty bad condition yesterday-”</p><p>“You did <em>not</em> see anything yesterday.” Wooyoung turned around to hiss, a finger pointing straight at San’s chest threateningly. “Do you understand?”</p><p>San’s eyes widened in something more surprised than scared. “But, Wooyoung-ssi-”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up.” He stopped running around to fully turn around, necktie and wallet in one hand, blazer and shoes completely missing, head spinning like crazy. “I told you to never touch me, right? Did I ever ask for your help? Do you love getting in other people’s business?”</p><p>He could see San Adam’s apple bop visibly as he gulped. “I-”</p><p>“I don’t know about other people, but I don’t love it when my business is violated.”</p><p>His whole body was shaking in terror as he gave up looking for the rest of his belongings and just found the outside door he had been in and out through a million times. The footsteps sternly followed him outside as he just realized that the rain was <em>pouring</em> like it hadn’t rained in years and one engineer up top said <em>ah, let’s loosen the valve to the max</em> at the most inconvenient time possible. He ran down the stairs from Choi San’s flat to the bottom floor, footsteps still behind him as San occasionally called out to him to stop, told him he was sorry for over involving himself when it wasn’t his business and he won’t ever do it again but Wooyoung couldn’t bring himself to believe even for a second and turn around to say it’s okay, because he knew. He knew Wooyoung was not normal, he knew the thing he absolutely should’ve had no idea about, he was just another selfish sufferer with no comprehension of anything good in life and Wooyoung was <em>careless, careless, careless, careless, careless</em>-</p><p>It took Wooyoung a couple seconds to feel the raindrops over his inflamed skin and maybe he felt it way before and was too distracted, maybe his nerves decided to go overdrive all of a sudden, but it felt like he was being skinned alive. Raindrops felt like little bullets trying to pass through the delicate layer of his skin to lounge themselves deep into his body as they landed over his rumpled white shirt, water overflowing to flood his bare feet and the road under it. He heard another rumble made of San’s distressed voice, but every corner of his brain was too occupied to feel the endless pain his skin was reflecting. His steps slowed, slowed and then stopped midway the road when it was just <em>too much</em>.</p><p>The sound of the rain pouring over every available surface filled his ears and let absolutely nothing else in, not even his own voice as his ragged breathing struggled to leave his lungs and his skin felt like it was being burnt to a crisp and his throat was sore but he wasn’t sure why. A pair of strong lights obscured his already hazy vision and he fell on his knees, blocking his ears with his hands shaking like a dry leaf to maybe free himself from the torture of raindrops for only a second or two. The lights got even brighter.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah-” He heard the familiar voice and wondered if he was already dreaming. He doubted it, though, his dreams never felt this excruciating.</p><p>The lights were too close, but a broad chest eased his eyes like a cloak, like eclipse. Wooyoung wondered if there were times moon suffered so much.</p><p>“No!” He screamed in absolute horror when two arms wrapped around his small body. “No, you- you’re not- not supposed to know!”</p><p>“It’s okay.” The voice was close, close enough that it was crystal clear, but was it because it was close?</p><p>“It’s okay, I will not hurt you.” He said and Wooyoung, for some reason, believed him wholeheartedly.</p><p>“Wooyoung, I will never hurt you.”</p><p>The arms wrapped around him once more and this time he couldn’t find any reason to push them away once more. “Make it stop, please, make it stop-” He begged when some of the rain actually was shielded away, but his skin still felt like it was melting off his muscles.</p><p>“I will. I will make it stop, hang in there a little bit.”</p><p>Wooyoung hanged in there as San picked him up and off the road as he squirmed and whined in excruciating pain, invisible tears streaming down his wet face. He kept squirming as the road back to the apartment was too blurry to even remember, so he only buried his face into San’s neck and waited, waited and bit his lip, his tongue not to make too much sound until he felt his body being lowered onto bed sheets, soaking wet but obviously San did not mind too much. No that it would’ve made any difference if he did.</p><p>Wooyoung was not sure why he felt completely safe even though his whole body felt like he was rolling around the very bottom of a volcano.</p><p>The next time he opened his eyes, though, his body never felt this light in ages.</p><p>He was still kind of disoriented, so it took him a second to take in his surroundings and realize he was once more in Choi San’s master bedroom, wrapped in sheets that still hurt as they rubbed over his skin where it was exposed but even the completely natural reaction to anything against his irritable skin did not feel as intense. An empty IV drip hanged from the very top of a metal bar beside the huge bed, his hand had a band aid on the back of it, he could see his clothes on a stand, neat and tidy like they hadn’t been previously drenched in artificial rainwater.</p><p>Wooyoung blinked in confusion until his ears filled with the most beautiful melody he had ever heard, then his confusion grew even bigger.</p><p>It sounded like someone singing, rather humming a song he had no idea about, but Wooyoung felt like he could almost see the notes floating around his slouched figure wrapped inside a blanket and it was <em>beautiful</em>.</p><p>He wasn’t even sure exactly when he left the bed and started chasing the invisible fairy dust leading him through the house he was mostly acquainted to, though still was not his own. The more he walked, the voice started getting accompanied with clicking of plates, cutlery or simple scratching of a wooden spoon against a pan. No other human voice was unbeknownst to his ear, thankfully, so he just let his feet guide him into the kitchen filled with delicious sizzling sounds.</p><p>Choi San turned around with a smile that let his dimples cave deep into his cheeks as he wiped his hands on his checkered apron with red ruffles at the edges and why was it actually so cute-</p><p>A loud gasp took the dimples away just as Wooyoung’s hazy brain engrossed itself on them and caused him to jump a little. “Wooyoung-ssi!” Choi San dropped whatever seemed to be a piece of cutlery with the way it chimed when it hit the floor and resonated inside Wooyoung’s ears. Wooyoung slightly grimaced. “You’re awake, finally! How are you feeling? Is anything off? Are you cold?”</p><p>Wooyoung stared at San’s hands hovering above the thick blanket wrapped around his scrawny figure but never daring to touch. “I’m-” He stopped to search for an answer for a second, did not find any proper one in time as San guided him to a kitchen stool with a face lit up so much it was actually almost sparkling.</p><p>“I’ve just been cooking, and I think it would be enough for two.” San blabbered as he quickly went back behind the counter to prepare the plates as the pan kept sizzling at the back. “I don’t exactly know what you like but I’m sure you’re hungry, you’ve been sleeping for so long-”</p><p>“How long?” Wooyoung tried to cut in when words started materializing inside his head and started squeezing the last bit of his judgement out of his ears, but what came out was nothing but a hoarse whisper that barely sounded his own. San seemed to pick it up just fine.</p><p>“About…” He promptly thought about it. “About 30 hours?”</p><p>The absolute horror in Wooyoung’s face must’ve been conveyed perfectly as San laughed easily to break the ice. “Can’t say you slept like a baby, but you seemed comfortable enough.” He picked up a clean glass, filled it with water and put it in front of Wooyoung on the counter. Wooyoung stared at it like it was some otherworldly entity. “Drink up. The food is almost ready.”</p><p>Wooyoung kept staring as San poured himself another cup, gulped it down and started humming the melody again as he stirred the skillet full of whatever Wooyoung did not care enough to identify.</p><p>Just like how San did not care about the 30 hours completely nonexistent for Wooyoung, other than the various dreams his consciousness granted him throughout his coma sleep.</p><p>But what exactly did he witness? Was it not an attack and Wooyoung was just hallucinating the last bits of memories recorded in his brain: the tent, the car, the rain? Were they the product of the haze occupying his logical thinking that gave up long enough to make him think he wanted to fall asleep once more to Choi San’s voice? If he was being careless again, why did he feel so safe?</p><p>Something must’ve been wrong.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, it’s-”</p><p>“About what happened-”</p><p>San looked at Wooyoung’s wide eyes with his own and giggled a second later. “Go on, Wooyoung-ssi.”</p><p>“I just…” Wooyoung fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably, looking down at the edges of the blanket hanging off his shoulders. “I didn’t know it had been 30 hours…”</p><p>San put another smile on his face as he turned around to stir the skillet a bit more. “It’s okay, you probably needed the rest. It was confirmed by a doctor that you’ve been tiring your body anyways.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked as it took him a second to comprehend. “You called a doctor?”</p><p>San paused when he detected the newly added darkness to Wooyoung’s voice, turned only the upper part of his body around. “Yes, I called a friend. Did you have any unregistered allergies? He did give you some medicine too. Said it would soothe you.”</p><p>“A medicine?..” Wooyoung resonated and felt the muted buzzing of his skin under the blanket as he watched him nod slowly before he turned around to keep stirring. Another set of sizzling sounds filled the kitchen and hindered Wooyoung’s train of thought for a second.</p><p>“Yes. Is there anything you normally use? We probably should track your reaction if you do. It was kind of an emergency because you were so distraught but-”</p><p>“What medicine did he give me?” Wooyoung interrupted with a bump in his already sore throat. San stopped stirring to actually turn around when he picked up on the distressed tone to Wooyoung’s voice.</p><p>“I know what you have, Wooyoung-ssi.” He said, voice careful and velvety like he was trying extra hard not to scare Wooyoung aware, which almost did not work as Wooyoung’s whole body started shaking with signs of danger.</p><p>“Wha- What do you mean-”</p><p>“Saying I think I know would be better, I suppose. Since I don’t have a name for it, neither a clean definition… But-” San nodded to himself silently, to tell himself it was okay to proceed with what he was going to say. Wooyoung felt the muted buzzing under his skin amplify to extents he almost whimpered out loud, wanted to scream in danger, tell him to run away, to hide, to even maybe threaten him to never open his mouth about it to anyone so he could be safe but-</p><p>“My brother has the same thing.”</p><p>All the buzzing came to a halt in quarter of a second. “What?”</p><p>“I think you met him.” San contemplated for a second. “At the engagement dinner, do you remember? It was for a brief second that I saw you together, but you assisted him upstairs, I believe.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked in confusion. “How do you-”</p><p>San put a bitter smile on his face when Wooyoung did nothing else but gawk at him. “That’s… why he’s not allowed in public. He has these very intense, painful attacks randomly and sadly there is no cure we could find for it, but the doctor that gave you the medicine is also his personal doctor. He agreed you had similar symptoms.” He stopped and waited for Wooyoung to say anything, shifted in his place when all he did was glare. “I am sorry if I’m overstepping anything, but I thought maybe you don’t know and-”</p><p>“I know.” Wooyoung deadpanned, causing the man right across the counter to press his lips together, confined in caution. A heavy silence fell over both of them. “You can’t tell anyone.” Wooyoung said in the end, to which San flailed his arms in front of him in alarm. “I would <em>never</em>.”</p><p>Wooyoung looked at how he frantically tried to reassure Wooyoung he wouldn’t say a word to even inanimate objects for the following 10 minutes or so, and Wooyoung somehow believed him instantly.</p><p>“It’s probably not that tasty, but brunch as an apology?” San said when they actually settled on not letting a word out of this house and how dangerous it could be, for reasons not as real to San as they were to Wooyoung. Wooyoung agreed, swatted San’s concerns about if he had any allergies with a scowl and a pout, <em>I don’t have any allergies, stop it</em>, and a <em>Why are you even sorry</em>. When finally devoured the simple meal put in front of him with the incredible hunger skipping a whole day left him with, it tasted like the best thing he had ever eaten.</p><p> </p><p>The bath offered by San after dinner since he was pretty crusty from sleeping all those hours was a challenge, like his all baths tended to be. San also did not mention the discomfort the water itself would give when he was talking about how a bath would <em>calm down his nerves</em>, when it would do the absolutely opposite, so Wooyoung was pretty sure he had no idea about Wooyoung’s fried nervous system constantly on drive and thought all he had was some periodic attacks.</p><p>Which was supposed to be, <em>were</em> the case for sufferer people in general anyways, before everything was fucked up for reasons unknown to even Wooyoung himself.</p><p>Although his baths would end up being a concoction of a bunch of silent whining and breath holding that echoed off the bathroom tiles to mock him as he struggled to take a regular bath normally because of the same reason, it was surprisingly not the case as he finished the bath with appalling ease and wrapped himself with the robe provided to him by Choi San. He managed to come to the conclusion that yes, it was the medicine given to him as the fluffiness around him smelled like the detergent scent that always lingered on Choi San’s clothes when Wooyoung was on his tails to do assistant work. He should’ve asked which brand he was using, the scent always made him feel like sitting inside a huge flower field, which also felt like being enveloped by two warm arms now that he was surrounded by it. Then again, it was probably some extremely overpriced rich people detergent, so he gave up asking altogether as he walked into San’s bedroom, as the bathroom he was offered was the en-suite one. Wooyoung looked behind the bathroom door and then the bedroom itself and thought how convenient it would be to have a bathroom in your own room. Hongjoong and Yunho’s big house had those, his own rundown one, on the other hand, was a single bathroom on the opposite side of where his bedroom was.</p><p>His mind suddenly drifted off to when he first woke up on the bed his toes were touching the side of. Bits and parts of his dazed memory told him he woke up to San sleeping on the floor, his upper body splayed out on the bed, his arms feeling somehow like they were reaching out to hold Wooyoung, touch Wooyoung and when he actually did-</p><p><em>Fuck off</em>, Wooyoung told his memory telling him San’s hand over his did not hurt a bit. He was drugged, he was confused as fuck when he woke up, of course he just thought it didn’t hurt where their skins were against each other. It was fucking stupid to even consider, ever since that time everything and everyone constantly felt like cold needles digging into his skin so why would Choi San all of a sudden-</p><p>“Do you know how many times I called you?” A voice too familiar but just as out of place said as Wooyoung breathed in the detergent scent once more before he took the bathrobe off. It didn’t sound enraged or furious, but it did sound resentful.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I wasn’t able check my phone.” San responded, not exactly sounding sorry. “I slept through the most of the last 2 days.”</p><p>Kang Sora’s voice had a little bit more it more irritation this time. “So, you slept like a baby without even checking up on your future fiancé? After I was under a tent for hours?”</p><p>“I heard the help was quite swift.” Wooyoung sighed as he let the robe fall off his shoulders. Having nothing against his buzzing skin felt a lot better.</p><p>“Choi San.” Sora warned, waited a second or two for impact. San’s voice did not travel through the house to reach Wooyoung’s ears. “If we’re gonna do this, we have to do it right. There are eyes and ears everywhere, people want us to go in front of the camera and say our marvelous love saved us from such a disaster.” She stopped once more for another moment that Wooyoung used for getting properly dressed. “I will not forgive you being careless like that.”</p><p><em>Careless</em>, Wooyoung echoed in his head as he sat on the bed with utmost care not to further irritate his skin a-that tended to be on fire with the smallest of touches. He too could not afford to be careless, not even a second of it, and letting Kang Sora know he was with Choi San this whole time meant the absolute recklessness. He decided he would wait until she left before walking downstairs.</p><p>“I will try to be more careful.” He heard San say after an elongated silence tinting the whole house a pitch black for a few seconds. “Good.” Sora said without any delay, and a chuckle following it.</p><p>“Were you so lonely you put out two servings? Do you make the cat eat with you?”</p><p> </p><p>Hongjoong’s hideout in the more rundown sides of the city was where he would be after big stunts like the tent incident, as Wooyoung had come to realize after so many years of witnessing him chilling in the house filled with a dozen people he would currently be helping with the intent of laying low for a couple days. That was why when he stormed out of Choi San’s house after successfully shaking off Kang Sora, with the rage of betrayal imminent in the way he told the address to the taxi driver, a few blocks away from the actual house to be cautious enough, he expected Hongjoong to be chilling with a pack of shrimp chips on his lap, cackling at the drama as much as the bad signal let him, waiting for Yunho to show up so they can grossly cuddle or whatever. What he didn’t expect when he finally walked the distance was that the door that would normally be closed to protect people inside from any outsider eyes was wide open with several people with buckets in their hands scooping out water flooding the ground and pouring them on the other side of the threshold.</p><p><em>Ah</em>, Wooyoung thought, <em>of course it rained a day ago</em>.</p><p>He let a deep sigh take away a portion of his anger and nodded at the people to let them know of his existence. Both of them put their buckets aside and scowled at him protectively. Wooyoung thought they must’ve been newcomers.</p><p>“I’m here to see hyung.” His voice was as calm as it could be with his impatience still creeping in.</p><p>“Hyung didn’t mention a guest.” One of them cocked his chin up as he not so subtly stared at Wooyoung’s attire being too <em>neat</em> for where they currently were. Wooyoung agreed, honestly. He often wanted to smack bastards in suits too.</p><p>“Let me in, hyung knows who I am.”</p><p>The woman scoffed with an eyeroll. “Way to go, pretty boy. We got work to do.” She took her bucket once more, filled it with muddy water and poured just in front of Wooyoung’s feet. Wooyoung watched the man do the same and gritted his teeth. It took him another deep breath and a whole mental preaching about how he swore not to make any fuss and how it was attracting too much attention and putting himself in too much unnecessary danger to even try again. “Go bring hyung, at least. He will tell you both off.”</p><p>The man threw his bucket into the water that splashed and put dark stains over Wooyoung’s dress pants, probably dirty too. “Look. We’re barely living by here, so stop messing with us, turn back and go back to whatever privileged place you came from-”</p><p>Wooyoung tried hard, <em>really</em> hard to just keep standing there with the fabric of his pants sticking to his irritated skin and maybe asking once more or yelling Hongjoong’s name inside to actually make him come and clean this mess, but that word, that fucking word despite everything-</p><p>“Say it again.” He hissed as he didn’t even catch himself grabbing the man’s shirt to smack him against the metal door frame, his own eyes wide with something not so sane as the other man’s filled with instant fear. “<em>Fucking</em> say it again.” He said once more, closer to the man begging him to release his knuckles pressing into his airways and deeper with something sinister. The woman’s shrill scream pried into the million words flooding his mind to create a barrier between his logical thinking and pure instincts as she tried and failed to pry Wooyoung’s hand away, his arm where she was trying to yank away pulsing unbearably that it was almost a reflex to twist her arm to make her stop. Another set of troubled voices from inside the house accompanied the sobs of the woman and normally Wooyoung would stop, would just let go because <em>was he even a monster</em>, but these past days have been so unnerving and the medicine still kind of fucked with his mind and it actually still somehow did not hurt to choke someone or dislocate their arms so-</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah!” He heard Hongjoong’s distressed voice suppress any other as he ran towards the door, splashing brown water everywhere until his small hands hovered over Wooyoung’s knuckles against the reddening skin of the man now making concerning strangled sounds. “Wooyoung-ah, let go, it’s okay.” Wooyoung looked at him dead in the eyes, raised one of his eyebrows. “They didn’t let me in.” Hongjoong nodded frantically, a nervous giggle escaping his lips.</p><p>“They are new, they never saw you before.” He mock scowled as his eyes threaded between the three. “And, it’s because you don’t come to dinner at all, okay? How were they supposed to know? Just let go.”</p><p>Wooyoung kept staring at him.</p><p>“Please?” Hongjoong tried with the ultimate puppy eyes, as a last resort. Wooyoung let both his arms go with an eyeroll. “Hyung, do I look anything like that light pole of a boyfriend of yours?” He fixed his patted his jacket suit for any crinkles as the man slid down the frame gasping for air, the woman crawling next to him to console as she herself sobbed. Wooyoung wondered if he should feel anything.</p><p>“Do not speak ill of the love of my life.” Hongjoong warned with a giddy giggle as he ran back inside. “Let me go grab some things, let’s go to the roof!”</p><p>He didn’t say anything as the couple looked at him like he actually was the monster, another couple of wounded stares joining them from inside the house, some angry that the peace was annihilated, some actually scared because anything in life tended to hurt them. <em>So much for not making a fuss</em>, Wooyoung thought as Hongjoong ran back to crouch down and apologize to the couple about a thousand times and reassure them he would be tending to them shortly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hyung, you could’ve at least warned me.” Wooyoung said as he breathed the chilly moisture in the air, swaying his feet down the side of the roof they lounged themselves over not long ago.</p><p>“But I did!” Hongjoong protested as he poked an old cleaning robot with a screwdriver simultaneously. Wooyoung rolled his eyes.</p><p>“I’m sorry I did not register your warning which was literally <em>We’re not gonna be here for long~</em> in a cocky voice.”</p><p>“We’ve been together for how long, Wooyoung-ah? Five years? Six?” Hongjoong huffed the dust away off the circular, about a human head sized robot on his lap. “You should by now know what I mean by that.”</p><p>Wooyoung thought about rebutting and reminding him he is not his giant ass soulmate that somehow understands what he is thinking by looking at his hands but opted to let out a heavy sigh that made him slightly giddy instead.</p><p>“Hyung, he knows.” He said as the city creaked and squeaked under their feet. He could smell the sewers even though they weren’t on the worst parts of the wall yet.</p><p>Hongjoong hummed an exclamation mark as he kept poking the rusty metal.</p><p>“Choi San.” He stopped to take a deep breath when he realized the heaviness of the situation, delayed by the medicine still fucking with his brain. “He knows about me.”</p><p>Hongjoong stopped scratching the screwdriver against the worst of the rust. “Knows what?</p><p>“Not everything, but he knows about the attacks.” Wooyoung gulped thickly when his drowsy brain played him a collage of the teensy bits of what he remembered. “He witnessed it.”</p><p>The screwdriver gave up messing with the rust and the machine made some squeaky sound under Hongjoong’s small hands. “How does he know what they are?”</p><p>A scowl slightly inclined Wooyoung’s brows. “I don’t think he actually knows what they are, or what they mean, since he called it a <em>medical condition</em>… But he said his brother has the same thing.”</p><p>Wooyoung could see Hongjoong’s lips turn upwards with something that could be almost cunning. “Interesting.”</p><p>“Yes, but, how can they be brothers if Choi Jongho is a-”</p><p>“Now, now.” Hongjoong giggled as closed a panel on the side of the small robot before setting it off on the floor. Wooyoung watched it roll away and find its way down the stairs in pure glee. “You’re not acting like yourself today, Wooyoung-ah. Are you sure you’re okay?”</p><p>“What.” Wooyoung decided on very intelligently after contemplating for a couple seconds.</p><p>“You come banging on my door, choke my guests and dislocate their arm, then here you are shoving your nose in other people’s business, isn’t that what you despise the most?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked. Surely it was because of the medicine he was given that still clearly had its effects on his logical thinking, but it did feel amazing to be honest, ever since he woke up to this minute even his normal pain was diminished to almost nothing, and he was curious to how a medicine like that existed and if Hongjoong knew about it, if he even had any relation to it, but-</p><p><em>Careless</em>, a part of him whispered, and it was right. He couldn’t afford to be careless, but here he was acting, <em>thinking</em> like a complete fool when Choi San <em>knew</em> everything and could go tell everyone else at any given moment because he too was a privileged, selfish good for nothing non-sufferer, and Wooyoung probably had to do something about it, quick, very quick, but here he was being stupid and-</p><p>“I’m just shaken, hyung.” He opted to say instead of giving in to his curiosity. He wasn’t really fine with medicines anyways. “Because you collapsed a tent over my head, if you already forgot.”</p><p>A giggle too lively chimed over the slums as Hongjoong swayed his legs in the air. “It was deed needed to be done, Jung Wooyoung.”</p><p>Wooyoung considered explaining that yes, he was all for ruining the fun of non-sufferers, absolutely, but he could at least give a warning beforehand and maybe he would call in sick for the day or something-</p><p>“What are we gonna do about Choi San?” He settled on instead. He knew how annoying his hyung could be when he wanted to.</p><p>“Nothing.” Hongjoong shrugged it off like it was not Wooyoung’s whole life on stake. “You don’t have to be always on edge, Wooyoung-ah. It’s not outside the wall.”</p><p>Wooyoung was scared to think that maybe he was right. “Easy for you to say, hag non-sufferer.”</p><p>Hongjoong laughed; the throwing head back, letting his whole body shake kind of laugh. “Go easy on me, damn.” His eyes opened so wide when he slouched to the front again that they could be compared to the size of the robot that still buzzed somewhere below their feet. “Ah, Yunho-ya!” He waved his arms, endangering Wooyoung’s life as he gave in to his excitement and waved the screwdriver along. Wooyoung looked down on the street to see the tall man in question look up, search around and spot Hongjoong’s overexcited self a little too easily.</p><p>“Hyung, why do you have a screwdriver in your hand?” Yunho yelled back as he squinted his eyes when his hand shielding them from the artificial sunlight did not do the job. Hongjoong jumped up, his giggles still the only good thing in this side of the wall, and ran across the roof towards the stairs before he stopped as Yunho yelled at him not to run with a screwdriver in his hand. “Ah, Wooyoung-ah, by the way…”</p><p>Wooyoung turned his head around to see him standing on top the stairs, playing with the object in his hand like a child caught red handed. “Sorry about the rain earlier.”</p><p>Wooyoung frowned in confusion. “Why?”</p><p>“It’s just that you don’t like the rain.” He shrugged and before Wooyoung could even open his mouth kept stepping the stairs as fast as he could as Yunho once again yelled at him it was dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung’s house was flooded.</p><p>He could realize the water that seeped through the entrance even before he stepped foot inside, but when he actually did, it was far worse than what he imagined. The muddy water soaked through literally every furniture he had and the groceries he bought and left on the floor in a moment of laziness were all covered in brown dirtiness, though it was possible they already went bad since he was absent for 2 whole days.</p><p>It wasn’t like Wooyoung looked at everything floating in literal sewer water and felt dread for the belongings, he never had that kind of connection to anything, including his house. But it did mean a shit ton of money to fix everything. Money that he didn’t possess.</p><p>A deep sigh was heavy on top of his chest as he put his blazer somewhere high up so the water would not ruin it along with everything near his sight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>fuck school started-</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. rosebay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wooyoung wasn’t the greatest at tense situations for a number of reasons.</p><p>The first one was that he wasn’t generally the most, if not the worst person he had ever known at expressing emotions, which often led to further conflicts that he then avoided altogether for his own tranquility and the other person’s utter annoyance.</p><p>The second reason was that, for more than three-quarters of his life, tense situation most of the time meant fights, extreme consequences that someone would get hurt, might get their things stolen, hijacked, or burnt down, and if they got into too big of a trouble they themselves might be the one going through the hijacking and the bed of flames and nails. It was how things were done outside the wall, so Wooyoung didn’t have to learn how to actually resolve conflicts, just staying out of them was the key when absolutely needed.</p><p>Sitting inside Choi San’s car looking out the window as the man himself drove silently was sadly not the optimum set of circumstances he could run away from. If he wasn’t planning on opening the door and throwing himself out, of course. He probably wouldn’t prefer that option since it would result in immense pain, Wooyoung wouldn’t even have the time to die.</p><p>Though Wooyoung was not sure which one he would favor as San was utterly opposed to how he had been the morning before Wooyoung left to see his house disgustingly flooded, considered his options, got an invitation from Seonghwa that he would lend his house until Wooyoung figured it out what to do but was not able to come and help him salvage what was salvageable since he got his arm broken during the whole tent shitshow and was feeling pretty sick, so he called Choi San as a last resort. The phone conversation was absolutely fine when he first called and required help, to which San was absolutely enthusiastic to give, but when he arrived he was a completely different person.</p><p>It wasn’t like San told Wooyoung off or actually shamed him for living in such a rundown place, contrary to what Wooyoung expected, but he knew something was off. He wasn’t emotionally developed enough to actually deduct something from the odd behavior other than <em>What the fuck did I do?,</em> though, so the thought had been sitting in the back of his mind, bugging the shit out of him ever since.</p><p>“You could stay in my place too, by the way.” Choi San said and broke the silence with actual words after what felt like a dozen years. “It would be easier to go to the office.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked once at a huge billboard with the soulmates of 97 percent match rate occupying it flashed beside the road for a second. “It’s okay. Hyung has a car.”</p><p>“Oh, I see.”</p><p>Silence. Only the light humming of the probably too expensive car and Wooyoung thoughts constantly suffocating him.</p><p>“You could stay in my place even if going to the office wasn’t easier.”</p><p>Wooyoung turned his head around to see San driving with hands white at the knuckles and face completely stonelike, drained of any emotion other than maybe annoyance.</p><p>“Why would I stay at your place when it’s clear that I’m being a burden?” He shrugged it off, trying his absolute best not to sound offended. Not like he was anyways, just mirroring the annoyance.</p><p>San was slow to answer as another silence fell upon them, this time accompanied with mild confusion. “You’re not- Where did that even come from?”</p><p>“It seems to be because I called you for help and okay, it was pretty nasty and whatever, but I wouldn’t have called you if I had any other option, okay? I understand that was a bit of crossing the line, but do you think I like having my house flooded? It’s nothing like your <em>penthouse</em> or any of that expensive shit and it’s not like I love the apartment itself but still all my stuff-”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, I’m-”</p><p>“It wasn’t like I could do much on my own so of course I needed someone. I wasn’t even gonna call you <em>because</em> is it any of your business what happens in my life and what is constantly fucked up, but I <em>seriously</em> had no one else to call, okay? even if it-”</p><p>“Okay!” San almost yelled, his voice thick with an amount of frustration no one would ever imagine hearing from him. Wooyoung’s breath stuttered for a split second. “Okay, I was the last person you wanted to see today, I understand.”</p><p>“Wha-” Wooyoung scowled, his already taken aback state further deepening with the weird assumption because how did what he had said even mean that he didn’t want to see San at all? He looked at San’s own scowl as he did not pry his eyes off the road to even spare a glance at Wooyoung and it wasn’t like Wooyoung wanted, <em>needed</em> to look at his eyes to understand if he actually was mad but-</p><p>“Whatever.” He grumbled, turned around once more towards the window to watch some trees pass by as blurred silhouettes and felt like floating away as one instead of sitting inside the car for the next ten minutes or so. Why was he getting mad at Wooyoung for simply insinuating that he was mad, was it some kind of stupid paradox? What did Wooyoung even do to make him feel so mad? Was he feeling <em>that</em> burdened now because he knew about Wooyoung’s condition?</p><p><em>Ah, of course</em>, Wooyoung thought, he expected too much even without realizing he was leaning on him when he couldn’t afford to be careless. Of course, Choi San was just some nonsufferer living his luxurious life facilitated by the pain and suffering of others, just like the woman walking across the road on lights, just like the old man sitting at his fancy porch sipping some tea and the children that play and scream mindlessly on the side of the road.</p><p>He <em>wanted</em> to be careless, to have worries about going to that newly opened mall that had AI employees instead of actual humans like everyone in the office or buying the latest version of the most popular phone or try the new VR games without being concerned about whether he would be convulsing on the floor in pain after 10 seconds of trying. He wanted to just let go and live his life just the way anyone else was, spend all of the money he worked hard for on whatever he wanted to spend it on, but he just <em>couldn’t</em>.</p><p>He just wasn’t given that privilege.</p><p>A sigh cut through the jumble of thoughts occupying his head when he realized the streets were more familiar. He didn’t like Choi San being mad at him, as he had painfully learned.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” He mumbled as audible as his pride allowed.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” He heard back, almost synchronized and equally pained. His head snapped around to see San looking at him, his widened eyes mirroring the bewilderment in his own.</p><p>“I just-” San cleared his throat and chewed on his bottom lip nervously, the engine came to a halt on its own when the car was not moved for long enough. “My day immediately proceeded for the worst as soon as you left, I promise it’s not because I think you are a burden. You’d never be...”</p><p>Wooyoung listened with a heart immediately not so heavy but still sticking on the ground. “I thought because I made you-”</p><p>“It’s not.” San denied in urgency. “I am absolutely thrilled that you let me inside that side of your life. I would never take it for granted.”</p><p>The silence was prominent inside the car, but the orange hue of the sunset made it feel warmer this time. Wooyoung gulped loud enough that it was deafening.</p><p>“You weren’t the last person I wanted to see.” He said, quick enough the words were barely coherent. He could see San’s whole face light up and it was more than enough to make him look away. Of course, he wasn’t offended at Wooyoung. How could Wooyoung be so gullible when his eyes- “You were only the last pick because I already made you go through a ton of burden.”</p><p>Wooyoung knew what he would say before he even opened his mouth to say them, as his scowl was too easy to read. “No. And I say this the millionth time but I would never think of it as a burden, Wooyoung-ssi. Please never think so.”</p><p>The autumn leaves swayed in the warm breeze as let the orange sun rays dance over Choi San’s neck freckles of the same autumn color. Wooyoung wasn’t sure how to feel as he looked down at his fingers nervously wiggling around. “I’m sorry…”</p><p>“Please don’t be as I was the one that made you think something was wrong,” San said softly, almost pleading at something so easy. Wooyoung considered, reconsidered, then reconsidered again until he nodded meekly. San’s lips did not a miss a beat to curve their corners upwards. “My offer will always be valid, by the way.”</p><p>“It’s okay. I need to look after hyung anyways.” Wooyoung said, leaning to biting his lip and then wondering <em>why the fuck</em> as he stopped himself. <em>Why the fuck did it feel warm</em>-</p><p>“Why? Is he okay?” San asked with genuine concern that he seemed to have for everyone.</p><p>“His arm is broken, I think.” Wooyoung shrugged. “He didn’t tell me much.”</p><p>San nodded affirmatively before his smile grew wider. “Okay. Let me help you with your stuff then.”. He gasped in haste when he sensed the protest Wooyoung was about to throw at him. “As an apology.”</p><p>Wooyoung was beaten to it against Choi San’s unperturbable stubbornness, a new trait Wooyoung was not aware of.</p><p> </p><p>Seonghwa looked <em>bad</em>.</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t want to be mean so he shut his mouth and only felt the cracking of his heart behind his ribcage along with prickling guilt, some things he allowed himself to feel only for Seonghwa and Seonghwa alone. Still, when the two finished carrying all of Wooyoung’s necessities up to Seonghwa’s floor, San left this time with a smile on his face that Wooyoung much rather preferred seeing and knocked on the door with a heart light as a feather he immediately had it drop seven levels down the ground.</p><p>“Ah, Wooyoung-ah…” Seonghwa breathed out in relief as soon as he opened the door, after a concerning amount of time between Wooyoung knocking and the door actually being answered, and there he stood with his arm in a wholeass cast, all color drained off his face as he struggled to keep his eyes open and his skin sickly and pale with a sheer layer of cold sweat. Wooyoung wanted to immediately lay him down and tuck him into bed until further notice.</p><p>“Hyung, why didn’t you tell me you were this sick?” He pleaded when he was done plopping everything beside the door inside in haste as Seonghwa waited silently and almost out of breath.</p><p>“It’s fine, Wooyoung-ah…” He tried to say and ended up trailing off with a grimace. Wooyoung sighed as deep as he could with a frown filled with concern he didn’t know he was capable of. “It’s not fine, hyung, I did a shit ton of things ever since I woke up. I would’ve come running if you told me you were sick.”</p><p>Wooyoung could see the corner of Seonghwa’s lips curve slightly upwards but even his pretty smile didn’t cover the painful fatigue written all over his features. “Wooyoung-ah. I know you don’t really do skinship in general but…” He gulped in a couple of heaps of air like saying even that much tired him endlessly. “…can I hug you for a little? Only- only a little.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked in slight confusion as he looked down at his huge emergency bag with no purpose other than stealing time for contemplation. “O- Of course, hyung, but-” He wasn’t allowed anymore as Seonghwa plopped himself over him, making him stagger as a muted pain shocked his nerves for a split second but he had to wrap his arms around Seonghwa’s fragile torso to keep him up his feet.</p><p>“I thought something happened to you…” Seonghwa whispered when they were stable enough to stand together and Wooyoung felt the thorns of guilt prick right into his chest painfully.</p><p>“No, I was just-” A dread swallowed all his words. What was he supposed to say, sleeping? As Seonghwa’s arm was fucking broken and he was this sick?</p><p>“I’m glad you’re here, Wooyoung-ah.” Another whisper filled the silence that resulted from Wooyoung not knowing what to say for the longest time. Wooyoung sighed slowly not to disturb the man hanging off him like he would collapse the second he let him go.</p><p>“Did you take your medicine, hyung?”</p><p>Seonghwa took a second before he shook his head no on Wooyoung’s shoulder. Wooyoung had to press his nails into his palm to make little crescents on his skin not to coil into himself.</p><p>“When did you eat last, then?”</p><p>Another silence filled the empty house as the silent humming of the air conditioner Seonghwa tended to leave on tried and failed to alter it. “I don’t know…”</p><p>Wooyoung sighed a sigh so heavy he could feel his lungs burn for a second. “Okay, that’s enough. Go get inside the bed right this second until I cook you something. Deal?”</p><p>“We could order-” Seonghwa started with the tiniest voice but Wooyoung was quick to shut him up. “No. Eating out is forbidden when sick, hyung, we talked about this.” A huff was the response to Wooyoung’s dictation. “Come on.” He said as he patted Seonghwa’s butt to get him going. He seemed to be refusing. “Hyung, come on, I don’t even know if your fridge is emptier than a banker’s heart.”</p><p>“What banker?..” Seonghwa grumbled as he finally unraveled his arms from around Wooyoung to stumble inside towards the living room. Wooyoung contemplated telling him to go to his bedroom and rest properly in his bed but was too lost inside the relief of finally having the minimum amount of contact that he was too late to do so. He instead figured he would start cooking since he knew how stubborn Seonghwa tended to be when he was not in a good mood. It was better to let him sleep on a full stomach and with proper medication taken anyways.</p><p> </p><p>The days were unbearably hot outside the wall, and the night would be the complete opposite as the cold breeze felt like needles against the skins of who were unlucky enough to feel it. In the old books with worn-out hardbacks and pretty fonts for the title, it said that the world used to depend on balance, and it succeeded in preserving it centuries ago, that the thing called atmosphere held enough moisture to sustain a reasonable temperature throughout the day. Wooyoung remembered how there was a photo of a beautiful lake with trees of every kind inhabiting animals he never saw in the handful years of his life, remembered how he was mesmerized by the blue of the sky, the clean air, water, how people seemed to be able to smile without any worries of whether they would open their eyes to another day just to let it torture them relentlessly until they ended up inside of some filthy pit along with many others. Wooyoung remembered looking at the photos and not seeing a trace of an infamous giant wall in sight and feeling both the joy and the dread in harmony.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, are you going to tell me why we are here?”</p><p>Wooyoung opened his eyes and squinted at the stupendous blanket of a million led screens structured in a way to resemble the same blue sky Wooyoung kept seeing in the books. “No.”</p><p>He could hear the exasperated sigh as Choi San tried again. “But why did you bring me here then?”</p><p>“Because I despise you.” Wooyoung said calmly, carefully pushed himself off his favorite lounge space on the roof of the company building and watched San’s jaw drop in absolute bewilderment.</p><p>“Wha-” He said very intelligently, considered the rest and settled on a very confused “Why?”.</p><p>Wooyoung looked at the endless blue screens making up the sky and missed the clouds for a second. “I told you not to tell anyone.”</p><p>“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t tell anyone.” San almost begged.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I will be very frank, Jung Wooyoung-ssi.” The blonde man sitting across the coffee shop table said, his hands interlaced on it in well masked nervousness. Wooyoung was informed the name was Kang Yeosang, title San’s friend and Choi Jongho’s doctor. “I know you have what Jongho has.”</em>
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  <em>A smile crept up Wooyoung’s lips as he tried really hard to enshroud the twitch to them. “Is that how you speak about your patient, Kang Yeosang-ssi?” </em>
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  <em>“I am not here to mean harm in any way.” Yeosang said instead with a bothered frown to his brows. “I am here to ask for help.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung sneered. “Then why am I being questioned during lunch breaks, San-ssi?”</p><p>From the corner of his eyes, he could see San’s posture immediately getting defensive and enjoyed it a bit too much. San seemed to adopt the protective persona ever since that godforsaken incident and Wooyoung found it very amusing if not a little bit annoying.</p><p>“Who? Is it someone we should be careful of? What did they say?”</p><p>Wooyoung also found it kind of pathetic that San thought it was a <em>we</em> thing, rather than Wooyoung trying not to get deported, in the best-case scenario. The worst-case scenario was not something Wooyoung liked to think of.</p><p>“Your friend.”</p><p>The confusion came in vigorous waves to swallow San’s voice as he doubted himself. Wooyoung wanted to just laugh at his face, laugh and laugh because he really was clueless. “My friend?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you told him, how much he knows, but he better not barge into my lunchbreak to spout bullshit again.”</p><p>“Wait, is this about Yeosang?” Wooyoung did not answer what was blatant. “Wooyoung-ssi, you know he was there when you-”</p><p>“Doesn’t mean he can just walk in and ask me questions.” The wind was strong as it licked Wooyoung’s inflamed skin to leave a significant buzz under it. San closed his mouth with a deeper frown.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Jongho suffers through days and nights, Wooyoung-ssi.” Kang Yeosang said with a voice heavy but cautious. “It happens whenever, wherever, it's unpredictable and frightening. Now, I don’t know under what circumstances your condition occurs, but he is bedridden throughout the whole process. He screams, writhes, cries but nothing I tried helped him.” </em>
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  <em>Wooyoung twisted the lid of his black coffee, hiding his scoff as much as he could manage. “Where are you going with this, Kang Yeosang-ssi?”</em>
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  <em>“I would only like a little amount of information.” Yeosang diverted his piercing gaze he kept on Wooyoung, finally wilting away the will to pin Wooyoung to the wall and scoop every bit of information coercively. </em>
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  <em>Wooyoung did not hesitate even a second. “I can’t help you.” </em>
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</p><p>The sun started burning a pleasant orange hue over Choi San’s skin and Wooyoung somehow liked to keep his gaze on the colorful spots instead of San’s horrified face. He scoffed though, like he kept doing as the doctor he just met kept questioning and questioning him, almost begging on his knees as to mock him even further, he might as well go and put a red hat over both of their heads and started dancing on top of the table. Everything, everyone kept trying to mess with him, constantly, with no rest.</p><p>“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of this situation, San-ssi. Neither of you.”</p><p>San’s frown deepened with unspoken protest. Wooyoung arched his brows.</p><p>“None of you know anything but act like there is something you can do, talking about it here and there like it’s easy talk, like it’s something that will go away if you wish hard enough.” He cackled with an eyeroll. “Believe me, I tried.”</p><p>San’s voice was somehow the only distraction from the maze of memories stained with red occupying his head. “Wooyoung-ssi, I am sorry if Yeosang said or did anything to offend you in any way.”</p><p>“No, no.” Wooyoung shook his head from side to side, trying his best to align his thoughts going sideways. “He’s just trying to help your brother. This is far more than me getting offended. This is my life on the line. This is my future, my safety being in danger.”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, I swear I would never-”</p><p>“No.” An involuntary growl escaped Wooyoung’s throat, frustration running through every corner of his heated body to add up to the buzzing under his skin. “You don’t know shit, so stop acting like you do.”</p><p>The wind whispered distaste into Wooyoung’s ears, and he agreed he was being careless; so, so careless.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Kang Yeosang looked distressed the more he talked, the more he demanded and got nothing in return. “What I want from you is nothing actively engaging yourself, Wooyoung-ssi. I did enough research to know this is not some condition, some disease that normal treatment works on, so I am begging if you know something-”</em>
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  <em>And Wooyoung felt like the walls of the coffee shop kept closing on his pathetic body the more time they spent in the relatively isolated space in a corner, felt like with every word the desperate man in front of his shed another head snapped in their direction, another pair of ears tuned in to their conversation. Wooyoung raised his head from his coffee now too cold to drink. There was no one looking in their direction. </em>
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  <em>“Yeosang-ssi, what do you think you know?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yeosang was taken aback before a frown inclined his brows. “I know that it’s a nervous system derived condition, that normal painkillers do nothing. I know that there are no official records of such, and I didn’t even think there was another person with the same condition until I saw you-” </em>
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  <em>Wooyoung laughed. How much more bizarreness could he take before it was enough? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeosang-ssi, I believe you’re looking for some kind of medical treatment to help you, am I right?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kang Yeosang nodded cautiously with a stoic expression. Wooyoung smiled as he cocked his head to the side, jarring. “There is no cure.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Does this feel like some game to you? Is it interesting to watch something not monotonous once in a while? Do you think you know everything just because you’ve seen once-”</p><p>“Then tell me.” San interrupted; determination evident in his normally soft voice.</p><p>Wooyoung blinked once, twice, lips gaping open like a goldfish. “Stop being ridiculous-”</p><p>Every syllable left San’s mouth in such emphasis that Wooyoung could see them solidify in the space between them. “Tell me, Wooyoung. If you think I’m a fool that knows nothing, then tell me all about it.”</p><p>The eyes staring right into his own felt like they could read anything in his mind if they looked for long enough. Wooyoung looked away. “Why would I bother? It’s not like you can do something about it.”</p><p>San nodded to himself. “True, I probably can’t do anything, but I can at least be there for you when you need it. I can protect you if something unexpected happens, which it tends to happen as far as I’ve witnessed, so let me offer my help.”</p><p>“No.” Wooyoung declined outright, horrified. “Who wants your stinky help? I’m doing fine on my own.”</p><p>A gentle smile tugged at the corners of San’s lips as his gaze was fixed in the distance. “I am your manager, Wooyoung-ssi. We will have to stick around for a while more whether you like it or not.”</p><p>“Liking will not be an option for sure.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and swayed his feet as they dangled off the wooden bench. One word. His terrified thoughts and light heart had only one word from Choi San between them.</p><p>“So are you telling me or what?” San giggled, swaying his feet all the same and smiling down at the way they synchronized after a two or three back and forth. Wooyoung stopped rocking his own when he acknowledged the joy it gave to San.</p><p>“I can’t just tell you…” He mumbled mostly to convince himself, saw San gasp in a mouthful of breath of protest. “Not here.” He added quickly. <em>Not anywhere in any foreseeable future,</em> he wanted to add but spared himself another session of objection.</p><p>“Then wh-” San started but both of their breaths were stolen by the loud ringtone of Wooyoung’s phone. The screen read <em>Jiyoung</em> when Wooyoung pulled it out of his pocket carefully. A heavy sigh heaved his chest up and down.</p><p>“Are you going to answer?” San asked as he cocked his head to the side, his eyes resembling a curious little puppy. No, a cat. A fox? Wooyoung was quite indecisive.</p><p>“I will later-”</p><p>“No, no, please pick it up.” San insisted. Wooyoung dug his teeth into his bottom lip for a second and put the phone to his ear on the other.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, did you miss me?” Jiyoung’s high-pitched voice was tinny with poor connection. Wooyoung could sense the unintentional roll of her words and meaningless giggles squeezed in between her breaths.</p><p>“Can we do this later?” He sighed out his immediate exasperation. San blinked in further confusion, but he disregarded the blatant suspicion for the time being.</p><p>“Is this how you pay your big sister, Wooyoung-ah?” Another giggle with a deeper one keeping it company, like they were both mocking him. “When I last called you weeks ago…”</p><p>“Just say what you’re going to say.” Wooyoung caught his gaze from being too involved with San’s frown, prayed the speakers were not loud enough so the conversation stayed as vague as it could.</p><p>“You know the drill. I need more money.”</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t even bother emphasizing the fact that it has been only two weeks since he made a transfer, only turned his body away from the man sitting beside him. “I can’t. My house is flooded.”</p><p>“Flooded?” She cackled outrageously. “Houses get flooded inside the wall too? Damn. Are you hearing this? This dumbass went inside the walls and still got his house flooded.”</p><p>“Noona.” Wooyoung warned sternly between evil cackles getting tinnier through the line.</p><p>“You have until Monday, Wooyoung-ah. It’s urgent.”</p><p>Wooyoung opened his mouth and gasped in a mouthful of breath to say <em>fuck no</em> but the line was dead before he could. He lowered the phone with a sigh so heavy he felt every inch of skin rub against his clothes and ache like it was mocking him. Everything loved to just mock him.</p><p>“Was it important?”</p><p>The buzzing under his skin came back in a fury, itched and itched like it wouldn’t knock him out if he scratched sufficiently and he didn’t want to raise his gaze back up to look at Choi San’s oblivious eyes begging for an answer and then deal with the consequences later.</p><p>“It was nothing.” He said instead.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Teacher, what is ‘birds’?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The woman with rag for clothes smiled down at Wooyoung and his book too big for his small frame. “Where did birds come from?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wooyoung excitedly raised his book up but struggled halfway. “It said it here!” His little fingers grasping the pages like his life depended on it were dusty and muddy, just like the knees of his worn-out pants, but the woman’s smile was not fazed. It was known that little Wooyoung would go around looking for the best of books anyways. </em>
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  <em>“You can say birds were the freest creatures on this planet.” She whispered after she helped Wooyoung up the makeshift concrete chair, looking at the pages Wooyoung held open to see a picture of a bird with feathers of all colors. “They used to fly in the sky, travel all around the world if they wanted to. You would raise your head up and see them with their wings spread wide under the endless blue, you would hear them chirping on top of tall trees, they were everywhere.” </em>
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  <em>Wooyoung’s cheeks puffed out with wonder as his tiny fingertips touched the illustration in the colors of the rainbow. “What happened to them?” </em>
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  <em>The woman hesitated for a second. “They died. All of them. Slowly, until humans got scared and put the last few of them under utmost care.”</em>
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  <em>An excited gasp erased the tiny pout on Wooyoung’s face. “Can we see them inside the wall??” </em>
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  <em>The woman smiled again, a smile that did not reach her eyes as she raised them up to the gigantic wall standing in all its glory between the sand clouds. “Maybe. Maybe we can, Wooyoungie.” Wooyoung blinked once in confusion as to why she sounded so sad before the smile returned. “Come on, the lunchtime is almost over.” She patted Wooyoung’s cute little butt and Wooyoung hopped off to run between few children playing in blind joy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“We would like to express our deepest sorrow for the lives that have been lost on this unfortunate day, to say the least, and a disaster, to be frank.”</p><p>Countless shutters went off to illuminate the couple in their focus for a couple of seconds. Kang Sora opened her mouth after an immaculate act of a sorrowful survivor in her full black dress. “May our most sincere condolences be with the relatives and anyone affected.” She said, her head high and eyes red-rimmed behind her black sunglasses doing their best to cover them. “We are absolutely devastated.”</p><p><em>One’s Promised Evaluation Co. achieves a total of 20 percent stock value rate.</em> Wooyoung remembered Yoo Kwan beaming at the company meeting a couple of days ago.</p><p>“Whatever we say will not make the situation any lighter, but we sincerely hope everyone stays strong through this tragedy.” Choi San took over when Sora shoved her head into his shoulder to let her cries be disguised. Fake ones, surely. “I will beg your understanding as my fiancé is still not feeling the best, so if you’ll excuse us.” He bowed to the vultures disguising as photographers apologetically. “Let’s go, Sora-ssi…”</p><p>It was ridiculous.</p><p>A PR stunt at someone’s funeral.</p><p>Wooyoung was not the one to connect with death to that extent nor did he understand the basics of paying respect at a funeral, dressed in fancy black clothes from head to toe, crying here and there under the act of <em>giving condolences</em>, just to turn around and keep living the other day like nothing happened. Pits were where you would end up where he came from, and the only time people would dare cry on the side of them would be from the godawful stench. He found it quite odd something that ended up so filthy at one place could be done in such an elegant way in the other.</p><p>He also realized that these elegant events had people. <em>Tons</em> of people that did not care if their extremities invaded someone’s personal space in their hazy agony to inflict their emotional pain on Wooyoung as physical.</p><p>Needless to say, Wooyoung was short on his breath when Choi San came to find him on the side of the big iron gates after he was done being a good fake fiancé to Kang Sora, as it was the best shot Wooyoung had in avoiding unwanted physical touch.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ssi, I’ve been looking for you-” San’s smile faltered when he took a better look at Wooyoung’s face. “What’s wrong? What happened, are you okay?”</p><p>“Why?” Wooyoung cackled loosening his tie to spare himself some of the irritation, only a tiny bit so he wouldn’t get looks. “Do I look that bad?”</p><p>San scowled. “You never look bad.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked. “What?”</p><p>San blinked back. “What?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked once more. They intentionally made San’s black hair stick out at places to make him look maybe worn out, tired, but how could they be so wrong-</p><p>“I mean, y-your face is-” San stammered, too appalled to have a funeral as background. “You just look pale.”</p><p>Wooyoung let a sigh burn through his lungs. “I do? Is it tha-”</p><p>The same breath was painfully forced out of his lungs as he felt the excruciating pain centered in his left shoulder and quickly spreading throughout his whole body and Wooyoung saw red for a second.</p><p>The dull humming of the wind and the chatters of dozens of people were dimmed to a shrill howl in his ears, he wondered if he made any sound as his skin under the fabric of his suit felt like it was peeling off his muscles, painting his white shirt a crimson red.</p><p>“-young-ah- Wooyoung-ah!” He heard from far away and the voice felt like a warm cup of tea in his belly on a cold winter night in the haze of his frantic nerves.</p><p>“Hey.” The same voice whispered again, cautious and heavy with intense worry but so, so soothing at the same time. “Hey, I got you.”</p><p>Wooyoung felt safe before the pain let him take in oxygen again, before his senses came back and he realized Choi San smelled like flower fields and warm evening sun.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah?” The voice bothered the serenity of the yellow blanket of flowers and it wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make Wooyoung snap back into the reality of the skin of his fingertips buzzing against the fabric of San’s expensive suit. He raised his head as his heart started pumping out more blood than he needed in absolute terror. It took him an only quarter of a second to unwind San’s arms holding him up and step at least two steps back, then stagger. San's eyes were wide in bewilderment.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah. Are you okay?”</p><p>Eyes. Wooyoung felt the eyes staring at their direction and humongous mouths whispering, whispering, whispering until they were big enough to swallow him whole. He gulped down the massive bump in his throat, looked around to see absolutely no one looking in their direction, too busy with their pain to pay any heed to Wooyoung probably writhing in his own. Fuck, was he too obvious? Did anyone see him literally suffering out in the open? Fuck, fuck, he was so careless, he-</p><p>“Hey, hey.” San took a step closer to him, Wooyoung took another back. San stopped and gulped slowly. “It’s okay. It was just someone rude crashing into you, you’re safe.”</p><p>Wooyoung took a shaky breath in and looked around again. No one was looking in their direction but why did the voices keep whispering <em>careless, careless, careless</em>-</p><p>“No one saw,” San whispered and Wooyoung’s frantic eyes immediately fixated on him. “I promise it’s okay, we were close, you didn’t make any sounds.”</p><p>Wooyoung believed him. He tended to believe whatever Choi San said stupidly.</p><p>“Do you want any more of the medicine?” San asked cautiously when Wooyoung was calm enough to be approachable again. Wooyoung raised his head from the crinkles of his blazer to blink at him. “Only if you would like to. And if it actually worked. I can always provide some for you.”</p><p>He contemplated. It was a fact that the medicine worked on lessening his pain for some time, but the haze it put over his mind was also painfully evident. It worked but it made him more careless. Maybe he could learn to manage himself over time anyways, but then-</p><p>“I don’t like drugs too much.” He grumbled, lowering his gaze on the cluster of humans around one corpse and grimacing at the scent of the pits lingering at the back of his throat. Yes, he didn’t like drugs too much, he couldn’t afford to be like Jiyoung anyways.</p><p>San nodded as he too lowered his head on the lawn under their feet, crushing a handful of grass under the tip of his pointy formal shoes.</p><p>“Is this happening because of… You know…”</p><p>Wooyoung’s breath hitched in his dry throat.</p><p>“Is it because it’s close or-” San sighed deeply. The chattered still felt like howling in Wooyoung’s ears even though the half wall they were leaning on was pretty far away. “Is it related to-”</p><p>“Kind of.” Wooyoung interrupted before San spoke too much. “You can say that.”</p><p>The fake silence embraced them as Wooyoung still felt like every little sound reverberated inside his head to multiply endlessly.</p><p>“I want to ask many things, Wooyoung-ssi.” San’s voice was calm but impatient at the same time. “But I would rather wait until you keep your promise.”</p><p>“Promise…” Wooyoung mumbled to himself, hoped it got lost in the white buzzing as he didn’t want to finish with <em>that I will never keep</em>.</p><p>“San-ssi!” Sora’s voice came before she did. Wooyoung raised his head to see her stomp in their direction with a furious smile on her face, saw San did the same. “I see you finally found your assistant. I’m surprised you could stay apart for so long.”</p><p>“Are you done?” San asked as he kicked his foot off the rocks piled on top of each other and shaped to resemble a wall, took one step towards Sora practically glaring at him.</p><p>“I am.” She said, her nose high up in the sky, the act of only half an hour ago nowhere to be seen. “We can go.”</p><p>Go, they did.</p><p>“I’m hungry.” Sora raised her eyebrows as he picked at the sides of her flawless manicure after she flopped herself onto the backseat of San’s car. “Do you wanna cook me something, San-ssi?”</p><p>San smiled a smile too enthusiastic from the backseat behind the driver silently steering the wheel. “Cooking? Do you have something particular in mind?”</p><p>Wooyoung’s stomach churned with a funny feeling he failed to decipher.</p><p>“Ah, no, but I heard you cook deliciously.” She slit her red lips open in a devilish smile, putting her hand over the shiny black beads on her chest as she turned her head towards Wooyoung looking out the window, trying his best not to engage in anything related to her. “Wonyoung-ssi would know, right?”</p><p>Wooyoung’s eyes widened, face blenched but he did not turn around to let Sora know he struggled to regain his composure.</p><p>“It’s Wooyoung.” San corrected instead, obviously bothered as his spirits were dimmed and he kept his eyes on the road.</p><p>“Ah!” Sora let out a high-pitched cackle. “My bad.”</p><p>“We should go grocery shopping if that’s the case,” San said softly after a couple of seconds of suffocating silence.</p><p>“Then why don’t we drop Wooyoung-ssi off first? Where do you live, Wooyoung-ssi?” Sora asked, then couldn’t pick her chin up off the floor when Wooyoung was about to hop off the car at the rather expensive neighborhood Seonghwa’s apartment was in.</p><p>“You live <em>here?</em>” She said in bewilderment with a hint of irritation, eying outside the window hungrily, so Wooyoung did not pay her any heed as he opened the car door with his clammy hands.</p><p>“Good day, manager.”</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung did not know what woke him up.</p><p>His mind desperately lingered on the last bits of his dream as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of Seonghwa’s living room, but they too were gone in no time, leaving a leeching, sticky feeling behind. Wooyoung blinked, looked over to Seonghwa still sleeping peacefully on the other couch, on his back with his arm over his belly, still in a cast. Wooyoung would’ve scolded his irresponsible ass sleeping on the couch while still injured if he already wasn’t asleep when Wooyoung stepped foot inside the house and if Seonghwa wasn’t cute asleep.</p><p>He blinked once more, tried to sweep the sleep off his lashes as the blue light of the moon shined through the large window, stars twinkling on the screens instead of the lights of the city in deep sleep. He sloppily looked for his phone, found it somewhere beside the couch on the floor. It said 3:18 AM, bold and white like it was mocking him. He sighed, side-eyed Seonghwa once more as he grumbled incoherency in his sleep, looked back at his phone screen showing <em>Manager</em> on top, with no recollection of even going through the necessary set of taps on the screen. A frown shook the cobwebs off his sleepy eyebrows. He could hear, feel and almost see the urge trying to make him press the call button. He didn’t know why.</p><p>The clock on top of the transparent screen said 3:22 AM. His mind first deceivingly whispered, then screamed at him to <em>call Choi San, call Choi San, call Choi San</em>-</p><p>His frown deepened. The whole city was asleep through the Seonghwa’s huge window, so San should’ve been sleeping as well, surely. Also, even if he was not sleeping, why would he call his manager at 3 AM unprovoked? Why would he call his manager unprovoked at all? What was the reason he felt so obligated to hear Choi San’s voice before he closed his eyes again?</p><p>Wooyoung sighed a deep sigh before putting his head back on the couch cushion he was too lazy to replace with an actual pillow. The second he attempted to abandon his phone on the floor the screen lit up with the <em>1 New Text:</em> <em>Manager</em>. His heart dropped at the speed of light. </p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>are you sleeping??</em> </p><p><em>yes.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung blinked. Why did it sound like something some pubescent teen would text their crush at ass o’clock in the century-old movies Hongjoong liked to have a collection of and why did his fingers type so fast? </p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>ah… are you sleep texting? </em> </p><p><em>this is a bot. please refrain from contacting this user at ass o’clock hours.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung was not there but he could see the smile deepening Choi San’s dimples gently until the pulsing of his fingertips faded the image away from his mind. He sighed, then held his breath until Seonghwa stopped squirming in his sleep, further reminding him he can’t use the speech-to-text feature he normally used to text since even the translucent phone screen attacked his nerves.  </p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>hi, wooyoung-ssi! i had a feeling you would be awake</em> </p><p><em>it’s literally 3 am</em> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>why are you awake then?</em> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung sighed, defeated as he side-eyed the man across the room fidgeting uncomfortably before he settled down once more. He wondered if his arm still hurt with all the painkillers in his system and if it felt the same as Wooyoung’s fingertips mercilessly catching fire the more he typed.  </p><p> </p><p><em>I just woke up for no reason, was gonna sleep if you did not bother me</em> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>ah, really? I woke up for not reason, too, but I can’t seem to go back to sleep</em> </p><p> </p><p><em>close your eyes, it will happen eventually.</em> </p><p> </p><p><em>come on~ talk to me for a bit. I like talking to you</em> </p><p> </p><p>Seonghwa sighed loud enough to fill the night bedazzled house and Wooyoung thought, god, same.  </p><p> </p><p><em>you know hyung is still injured</em> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>but what does texting have to do with your hyung being injured</em> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung paused before he blinked into the void. In his mind, Choi San and the color red emerged for a second, facilitated with the invisible needles on the tips of his poor fingers. He fidgeted under the covers also sticking needles to his skin under his clothes and hissed, had a mini heart attack when Seonghwa mumbled unintelligibly. </p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>actually, wooyoung-ssi</em> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung was about to type what with his inflamed fingers when the screen popped with another text. </p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p><em>I’ve been wondering about what happened.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung’s eyes widened in panic, he aimlessly looked around the house empty other than Seonghwa finally in deep sleep again and him. He was about to type <em>shut the fuck up</em> as fast as his joints allowed him but stopped when the screen shifted with a new message.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p>
  <em>and I know you told me we can’t talk about this with people around but</em>
</p><p>
  <em>is talking over text okay? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m just worried </em>
</p><p>
  <em>it looked really bad</em>
</p><p>
  <em>wooyoung-ssi?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>are you there?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung wasn’t even sure how he hadn’t thrown his phone across the room trying to match the insane speed Choi San typed with as the crippling panic further paralyzed his burning fingertips and he breathed. It was okay, probably. Hongjoong took care of the obsessive tracking of the control freak government a long time ago, it should’ve been fine.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>how did the cooking go?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A pause as Wooyoung held his breath and hoped Choi San was not as dumb as he thought.</p><p> </p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p>
  <em>ah</em>
</p><p>
  <em>sora changed her mind and left the last minute</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wasn’t really feeling like it so I just ate some leftovers</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Relief washed away a quarter of Wooyoung’s overworking chaos plotting brain and he sighed away the dread, squeezing his phone between his palms to make the pain pull his wandering careless mind back to its place. His knuckles turned white and his brain automatically assumed blood would drip down between them considering the amount of pain his nerves caught on. The blue moonlight shined over his pale skin and contrasted with the agitated pulsing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>that’s a shame</em>
</p><p>
  <em>you cook really nice</em>
</p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p>
  <em>really?? I can cook for you whenever you want </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His spit caught in his throat as he read the text that appeared on his screen fast beyond human capabilities, <em>coincidentally</em> at the same time, and Wooyoung once more held his breath when Seonghwa murmured a very sleepy “…Young-ah?..”</p><p>“Yes, hyung?” Wooyoung blinked, eyes wide and hugging the blanket defensively even the soft material scratched his skin mercilessly.</p><p>He could see Seonghwa struggling to lift his heavy eyelids under the blue moonlight. “Why are you awake?..”</p><p>“I’m not!” He immediately opposed intelligibly, then gulped. “I- I just woke up to get some water, nothing’s wrong.”</p><p>Even the confused frown appearing on Seonghwa’s face was half asleep, and Wooyoung was not sure why he felt the crippling guilt in his gut all of a sudden, but he threw the blanket off his aching body and stumbled towards Seonghwa’s couch bed.</p><p>“Is it because you can’t sleep again?..” Seonghwa whispered when Wooyoung crouched down beside his head, eyes droopy with probably too much medication.</p><p>“No, hyung.” Wooyoung said with a sigh and a smile. “I just woke up; I will go back to sleep now.”</p><p>Seonghwa seemed unconvinced and considering how many nights he spent awake and panting because of his overdriven nerves, which Seonghwa very innocently labeled as basic <em>insomnia</em>, he had every right. “Hyung, I would tell you if I was uncomfortable, I promise I will sleep immediately. But let’s get you to your bed now that you’re awake.”</p><p>“Why, I’m fine here.” Seonghwa whined. Wooyoung’s smile deepened fondly. “‘A sick person cannot sleep on the couch’, is what someone keeps telling me.”</p><p>A defeated sigh escaped Seonghwa’s plush lips. “Do not attack me with my own words…” He gave in and sloppily stepped on his feet, swayed towards the front and then back about three times until Wooyoung hastily jumped up to steady his sleepy and medicated legs. Somehow he never minded the pain of holding Seonghwa’s jacket sleeve.</p><p>When he carefully tucked Seonghwa in his huge bed that would probably fit both of them twice, promised him about a hundred times he would be fine on the couch and that he would go to sleep immediately, he came back to see his abandoned phone screen lit up with a new message.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>  </em> </strong>
</p><p><strong><em><span class="u">Manager:</span></em></strong> </p><p>
  <em>goodnight, wooyoung-ssi</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>And a good night it was.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Notice: Unusual activity detected. Please contact the authorities as soon as possible. </em>
</p><p>Wooyoung saw it a million times.</p><p>When the periodic casual brainwashing happened on billboards as people walked beside them in their hustle and bustle when every evening the news host closed the bulletin with a smile and a subtle warning to simply behave after reporting on how they tortured anyone that did not.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He was at his desk filling out papers and sorting out the useless advertisement, peacefully, if you would. The whole morning was him barely having a second to breathe as he got a papercut or two and either couldn’t feel it or wanted to straight-up run on top of the building and scream his lungs out, nowhere between. Choi San was too absent in the office rumbled with the usual turmoil, which somehow left a bitter feeling in the back of his throat.</p><p>He knew it was like a death row when he quickly went over the words once when his phone in the corner of the cubicle reserved for him, thought he read wrong then went over them once more just to feel the burning panic run coursing through his whole body. The words were dissected, reassembled then dissected again in his brain until they solidified in front of his eyes and he could register the fact that actually were sitting in his inbox, with a sketchy government contact name on top and he didn’t even have a second to think as his hand just threw the phone over his desk. The phone made a rattle, first diverting the attention of some closer heads as it pushed the pile of papers into further disarray. Wooyoung realized his hands were shaking only after he kicked his chair off and shot up, making more heads turn towards his direction with simple curiosity or cruel judgment. His mind screamed at him to run away, to disappear into thin air and that would be the only way to make it out alive.</p><p>His legs carried him outside the office area, terrified as his heart pumped much-needed blood but crashed into his chest repeatedly, his ears ringing over the dimmed white noise as deafening fear made his vision into a tunnel. He had to get out, he had to run as far away as possible, but where would he go inside the wall where they had eyes and ears in every nook and corner possible? He had to find a way.</p><p><em>Hongjoong</em>, his mind offered desperately, <em>I need to find hyung</em>. His eyes frantically looked around to find an exit, as his mind failed to compensate and lead his feet towards any door he knew led outside. His tunnel vision barely let him see a door he was not able to understand what it had on the other side, he turned around to maybe make a run for it, his mind chanting <em>hyung, I have to go to hyung</em>, but-</p><p>Unbearable amounts of pain pushed every molecule of air inside his lungs as he crashed into something during his frantic state of mind, so hard that all of his vision was painted red immediately, his legs completely giving out under his weight. It took him a moment for his nerves to calm down and not feel like he was being skinned alive enough to lift the red curtain in front of his eyes and let him see Yunho’s perplexed stare.</p><p>“Wooyoung, what the fuck is going on?” He hissed and looked around to see if anyone was aware of their crisis, realized too many people were interested. Wooyoung opened his mouth to answer but what escaped from between his lips was a pathetic whine as where Yunho grabbed his arms to hold up his weight throbbed, angry and pulsing.</p><p>“Hyung-” He said breathlessly. Fear crashed over him in tidal waves that almost swallowed him up now that the pain was dimmed to about an average amount. “I need to find hyung.”</p><p>Yunho looked around with a scowl on his face for damage control once more, threaded a string of curses under his breath and dragged Wooyoung into a somewhat emptier hallway, making him almost blackout again in not even one-minute intervals.</p><p>“Screaming in the middle of the office is not very lowkey of you.” Yunho towered over him, a hand on his waist crinkling his navy blazer and face contorted into a mixture of anger, confusion and worry if he squints.</p><p>“Let me go, I need to go to hyung.” Wooyoung said as determined as he could manage without collapsing as he thrashed in Yunho’s hold. Yunho squared him in place, causing him to grimace at the new waves of torture.</p><p>“No. I will call hyung if you tell me what happened.”</p><p>Wooyoung gulped slowly and excruciatingly, whole body shaking like a dry leaf as he stopped squirming to break free. “Notice.” He said with a voice so shaky it trailed into the air at the end. “I- I got the notice.”</p><p>He could see the exact second Yunho’s confusion was exchanged with the reality dawning upon him and staggered on his weak knees when Yunho let him go to point at some direction Wooyoung was too on edge to decipher.</p><p>“Go wait somewhere secluded enough at the parking lot, I will go pick some stuff from my office and call hyung.”</p><p>“But they-”</p><p>“They can’t get you under broad daylight, Wooyoung,” Yunho said, already bothered. “Calm down and go wait in the parking lot.”</p><p>It was about twenty minutes of excruciating thought and almost a panic attack in a dry corner behind all the cars and walls that Hongjoong’s bright blur hair appeared right in front of his crouching figure.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” He said like the saving grace he was. “I got this, don’t worry.”</p><p>And Wooyoung didn’t doubt his skills or honesty, but the smell of decomposing flesh was burning at the back of his throat. He barely held his lunch in his stomach.</p><p>The IT person Hongjoong was around with for most of the illegal electronic stuff propped her laptop on a nearby wall, took Wooyoung’s almost broken phone provided by Yunho and started typing her illegal coding away. Wooyoung forced deep breaths into his suffocating lungs, closed his eyes but decided it was a horrible idea all he saw was red and brown, maybe a bit of green and yellow with eyes as black and deep as a wormhole staring lifelessly into his. He opened them immediately and gulped the disgusting lingering smell down, his skin felt like it was cracking open with deep red gushes of wounds and leaking blood and puss. There was no way he could go back to the hell that was outside the wall. Not alive, not as a corpse disposed into one of the pits just to-</p><p>His soul wandered somewhere up over his head and watched the events unfold in a Dutch angle as Hongjoong called out his name to alert him that they were fine for now and he didn’t have to do anything unless he was contacted to do so, passively controlled his numb but pained limbs in the right direction as they walked towards Hongjoong’s car on a spontaneous invitation Wooyoung was offered dinner, looked outside the window as trees and neatly piled bricks of concrete passed him by in sad blurs, Hongjoong’s excited chirping filling his ears. All while the pungent odor of his memories left the bitter taste of death sticking in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“If they ask you, you are going to tell them you got your phone stolen, Wooyoung-ah.” Hongjoong said with one of his naturally reassuring smiles pulling his plush lips to the sides.</p><p>“No, but, hyung-” Wooyoung started, realized his overheated tone and took a breath as he played with his uneaten food on the plate in front of him. “What if they don’t buy my phone being stolen and they find the records you deleted? How the fuck did they even manage to track my number when you told me you had everything taken care of? And how do we know they’re not waiting for me at home right now? Oh no, what if they’re interrogating Seonghwa hyung?”</p><p>“Finally, your head exploded,” Yunho murmured from the other side of the dinner table as he stuffed Hongjoong’s delicious home cooking. “No one is coming for you, relax.”</p><p>Wooyoung sent a glare in his direction as he pressed his lips together for a second and Hongjoong sighed as he looked down at his almost finished food and then at Wooyoung’s reserved scowl. “Wooyoung-ah, he is right, you know. We took care of the records and Hyejin is very good at what she does. Besides, with where you live and all, your phone being stolen isn’t the most baffling thing.”</p><p>“Hyung, I know, but-” Wooyoung chewed on his bottom lip to have a ground. “Why were they tracking me in the first place? What if they know about Jiyoung’s shit already-”</p><p>“Is it fun to live with what-ifs, be honest?” Yunho answered instead. Wooyoung would’ve kicked him so hard his shin would break in half only if his own foot wouldn’t feel like it was severed on the spot.</p><p>“Is it fun to throw your useless judgment around?”</p><p>“Hey.” Hongjoong warned the two, all of his mirth turned into a serious scowl. “Not on my dinner table.”</p><p>A heavy silence surrounded all three of them as the occasional clinking of cutlery disturbed it momentarily.</p><p>“You know.” Hongjoong started as he gracefully put his knife besides his now empty plate. “There may actually be one more solution to your problem, and a permanent one at that.”</p><p>Wooyoung did not like to let his hope be seen through, but solutions to his problems were what he precisely needed in his life.</p><p>“We could bring Jiyoung inside,” Hongjoong said casually, binding his hands under his chin as support. “We could give her a place near the wall and suggest that her signal must be getting fucked as outside. I should talk to [redacted] about how to conduct the whole story, though.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t they ask why his records got deleted, then?” Yunho stuffed the last of his second plate into his huge mouth and swallowed as he waved his knife in the air.</p><p>Hongjoong pouted as he cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and shiny like they tended to be when he looked at Yunho. “Wouldn’t we figure that out somehow?”</p><p>“No.” Wooyoung cut their unprompted planning without even letting it start properly. “I do not want her anywhere near me. She causes enough trouble with a wall in between.”</p><p>Hongjoong diverted his softened gaze away from Yunho and sighed heavily. “Wooyoung-ah, don’t just rush into saying no immediately. This might work so well, we could find her a place, a job, and she could find someone else to bother instead of pestering you for money every Tuesday-”</p><p>“Hyung, I said no. Do you think she wouldn’t have gotten in already if she thought it would benefit her? She’s fine like that doing whatever the fuck they’re doing and occasionally blackmailing me. I don’t want her showing up at my door whenever the fuck she wants.”</p><p>Hongjoong stopped to look at Yunho for a second like it helped him organize his thoughts. “Look, I am not saying you are wrong, but maybe if we give her a chance and show that she could live much better-”</p><p>“Hyung.” Wooyoung interrupted with a somewhat warning tone. “I know that you have the utmost patience for everyone and think there is no one who wouldn’t deserve a second chance or whatever, but some people just don’t. She’s the reason for everything bad in my life and she enjoys it, what is not clicking for fucks sake?”</p><p>“Will you just stop opposing everything he says?” Yunho said, obviously irritated. “You were the one worrying so much and he offers a solution, if you don’t like it so much find your own.”</p><p>Wooyoung took a deep breath and gritted his teeth for a quarter of a second. “I am offering to let it go.” He enunciated.</p><p>“You don’t let family go.” Yunho deadpanned like it was common sense.</p><p>Wooyoung scoffed without holding back. “Right. Family.” The word left a bitter taste on his tongue. “She constantly threatens me for money, blackmails me if I don’t double it every couple of months, and now puts my shitty life here in danger. She once left me in a fucking <em>pit </em>to die! But she should get a pass because she’s <em>family</em>?”</p><p>Hongjoong threaded between the two in a state of alarm knowing things were not going in a very delightful direction. “Stop it, you two.” Yunho chose to raise his eyebrows arrogantly instead.</p><p>“Well, you also left her behind when you went inside the wall-”</p><p>A loud bang rattled the cutlery against the plates for a split second and a heavier silence fell over the fancy living room. Wooyoung felt the invisible needles poking over his skin as his hands rested over the expensive tablecloth for one or two more seconds before he ungritted his jaw, the poor chair kicked away in the moment of fury. “Thank you for the dinner, hyung.”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah-” Hongjoong also kicked his chair back to run after him as Wooyoung already threaded halfway towards the door but did not make it as the slamming of the door separated the night into two.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. marguerite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something was wrong.</p><p>Wooyoung slammed the taxi door after throwing probably more than what was needed at the poor driver, diverted his rushed steps towards the building he was very accustomed to, not paying any heed to his limbs pulsing with friction under his suit. His phone went off in his hand for the probably a hundredth time in the past hour or so. He ignored it for the sake of proactivity.</p><p>Wooyoung knew something was <em>very</em> wrong when he saw the man leaning on the hood of the car, a hand in his uniform pocket and other scrolling through the phone in his hand, boredom evident even over his back.</p><p>“Uh, hi-” He started to get the bored chauffer’s attention. The man stopped scrolling and turned around with relief in his eyes.</p><p>“Hello, Jung Wooyoung-ssi! I believe there was a mistake, I have been waiting here for the last hour and Choi San-ssi has not come out.” He took one, then two steps towards Wooyoung about to burst into flames. “Was there a mix up in the schedule time, am I early?”</p><p>“No, no.” Wooyoung raised his hands in the air as he already found the stairs leading up the main gate. “I am very sorry that you had to wait but please wait a couple of minutes more. I will go check on the manager really quickly.”</p><p>“O- Okay…” The man said, baffled as Wooyoung pushed the gate open after typing the password to it faster than he did most things in a while. Something was wrong, there was never a time San did not answer his phone calls for more than 20 minutes, let alone neglect his phone on a schedule day to this extent. Sure, there were times he acted like a complete sloth as he whined about not wanting to leave his warm and comfy bed, but even those were over the phone, in complete contact with Wooyoung, his manager.</p><p>It was another one of the PR stunts they would be pulling to manipulate the oblivious general public with the most recent disaster Choi San and Kang Sora survived with their undying love and 97% match rate, as they loved to milk until it couldn’t be milked anymore. Wooyoung sometimes wondered if people knew he was the one Choi San pulled up in his arms that night and ran away without looking back, what kind of an outroar it would cause. As much Wooyoung would’ve loved to see it, it was only the chaos-thirsty side of him that just wanted to see everyone inside the wall in terror. It wasn’t like he could act careless anyways.</p><p>He cleared his throat, his legs burned with fraction as he stood at the door with 107 over it. The memory of only a couple of days prior stuck to the back of his eyelids as he closed them for a second, but he disregarded the heat creeping up his cheeks quickly. Something was wrong, it wasn’t the time to have an overflow of blood in his face, for whatever reason.</p><p>He knocked on the door.</p><p>No answer.</p><p>He rang the bell, first as calm as he could fathom, then more persistent until the tip of his finger burned and charred inside.</p><p>His heart anxiously thumped against his chest as seconds passed by with no response.</p><p>Did he leave for somewhere?</p><p>No, Wooyoung knew, <em>felt</em> something was wrong. It was a dull pang in the center of his chest that he couldn’t shake away, writhing and clawing as it screamed at him <em>something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong</em> and Wooyoung decided it was a perfect time to be using the spare keys San handed him for emergencies. Seemed emergency enough.</p><p>The house was practically looming with thick air that threatened to shatter the deeper he stepped inside, suffocating him with the absolute silence accompanied by the dry humming of machines. Wooyoung looked around for any sign of Choi San around the living room, saw a freshly used head towel sprung over the couch, what Wooyoung assumed was once a breakfast plate sitting on top of the coffee table across the TV off, the uneaten remains still relatively fresh. There wasn’t any sign of struggle, which, <em>thank fuck</em>, but neither was there any sign of Choi San.</p><p>“Manager?” Wooyoung tried, waiting a couple of seconds and got stifling emptiness as a response. He sighed as the pang persisted on getting bigger and bigger until he physically had to open his mouth to breathe.</p><p>He wasn’t in any of the rooms downstairs, as Wooyoung spent his next couple minutes yelling his name like a maniac and opening and slamming doors, panic eating away at him with every room he cleared. A sigh so deep it almost made his adrenaline-driven head spin as he climbed the stairs, two, three at once, his skin tearing apart and his nerves frying under his pants, but he had to find Choi San. He had to find him quick and make sure he was safe otherwise he would be straight up going mad. His phone loudly rang once more. Wooyoung barely declined the call before he succumbed to his urge to throw it across the house.</p><p>His yells never got a response until a meow cut the silence of his deafening heartbeat and startled him, totally caught off guard. His hand reaching for San’s bedroom door closed shut froze midair as Byeol calmly walked up to him, then put her little butt down on the floor a respectful distance apart, her gaze firm as she stared at Wooyoung with her big eyes. Wooyoung blinked, eyes wide.</p><p>“Is he here?..” He asked more to himself, grasped the handle and slowly turned, ignoring the sting of the simple action. His heart was basically thumping at his ears at this point, every inch of his skin being tortured by invisible needles, but he paid no mind. He wasn’t sure if he would rather fling open the door to see San passed out on the floor of his own bedroom, or face the disappointment of another empty room, he didn’t have time to choose as Byeol slid past the narrowest opening of the door hurriedly, letting out another meow of gratitude.</p><p>Wooyoung did face another vacant room, but he could see San’s phone flickering on and off painfully with missed calls on his disheveled bed. Unworn pieces of clothing adorned the pale grey flooring and Wooyoung knew San sometimes was a lazy-ass bitch, but nothing explained the contents of his dresser scattered around the floor, an expensive bottle of perfume shattered into pieces, the pungent smell dominating the room. Wooyoung grimaced as he stepped inside carefully, dread heaving his heart pounding in his chest. Was it that someone broke into the house, did something to San, then left? Did they take San with them? Where the <em>fuck</em> was he, even his phone was here on his unmade bed.</p><p>He realized Byeol sitting in front of the on-suite bathroom door shut closed too, licking her paw adamantly until she lowered it down on the clean floor and meowed at him once more, as to say <em>the door, human, open it</em>.</p><p>Wooyoung carefully tiptoed around the worse of the mess, looked down on the cat to see if she was messing with him just for some chew toy of whatever with a frown, but then heard a pained, silent hiccup coming from the other side of the pale wood, deep and gasping for breath. Wooyoung didn’t even have any recollection of snapping the door open, not paying any mind to his hand basically combusting on itself with the force of the action.</p><p>The bathroom was dark, unlike the bedroom and the rest of the house, but it was as big as he remembered using even with the darkness enveloping its expensive interior. Wooyoung could hear the panicked gasp echo off the clean tiles, queued with a couple more of hiccups forcing their way out. “Manager?..” He called out into the void, earned a pained whine as the response, and did not waste another second to flick the lights on. The walls basically expanded to double the room in size as the light reflected off them but Wooyoung’s eyes could find the dark figure cowering at the furthest corner, visibly shaking as he protected his head with his hands, from what, Wooyoung was not exactly sure. He closed the gap in a hurry, tiptoed around the mess of towels and dirty laundry and crouched carefully only a step away from the man in obvious distress.</p><p>“San-ssi?” He tried once more. Another tremor ran through San’s spine as he cowered further, whimpering, terrified. Wooyoung blinked as a chill of his own coursed through his body.</p><p>“San, hey, what’s wrong?” He crawled a bit closer as gentle as he could manage with his whole body screaming discomfort. “It’s… ugh—It’s Wooyoung, I’m here.”</p><p>The breath barely expanding San’s chest painfully came to a halt before he unraveled his fingers, let his head slowly come out of its hiding between his quivering knees and Wooyoung felt something in his chest painfully constrict at the crimson painting the right half of his face.</p><p>“…Wooyoung?..” A whisper forced its way out of San’s pale lips, and whatever was squeezing his chest shattered Wooyoung’s heart into pieces when San was finally brave enough to look up.</p><p>His eyes. They were filled with so much pain and fear that Wooyoung felt his blood boil for a second.</p><p>“Tell me what’s wrong.” He said gritting his teeth as he looked around, saw Byeol walk in and snuggle herself close to San as he flinched violently at the contact, scaring her off. Other than Byeol whining, agitated as she pawed a respectable distance away and putting her butt on the floor once more, nothing habituated the bright bathroom floors.</p><p>“T- they-” San barely whispered, his eyes frantically looking around, searching in terror. “They keep me- messing with me, Wooyoung, p- please-”</p><p>“Who?” Wooyoung pressed, crawled a bit closer to shield anything that was not even there from ever touching San.</p><p>“They!” San almost yelled with his voice rasped with overuse, two teardrops fell over his cheeks as one turned pink. “The shadows, I- I can’t-”</p><p>“Shadows?..” Wooyoung echoed, looked around once more, saw only white and light.</p><p>“Yes! Yes, they won’t let me go, Wooyoung-ah, please- Please, I can’t do this-”</p><p>“Who are they?!” Frustration spilled as Wooyoung carefully put his hands over San’s shaking shoulders, effectively facing him as more tears spilled down his terrified eyes, more white than the trembling black in the center.</p><p>“Sh- Shadows, they- Don’t you see them? Wooyoung, they keep telling me- telling me things, I can’t- I can’t make it stop-”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked, appalled as his own breath hitched with San’s, his own hands trembled with San’s and his own heart probably beat with San’s. His hands throbbed with contact, his nerves screeching at the touch, but he thought his chest hurt more than his hands at that moment, which was implausibly rare.</p><p>It wasn’t a pleasing sight to be seeing the eyes that smiled with all their might at any given chance embezzled with so much suffering, so much dread and pain, Wooyoung momentarily forgot his own.</p><p>“It’s okay.” He whispered gently as he wrapped his arms around San’s frail shoulders trembling like a dry leaf, nestled his head on his chest without paying any mind to the perfectly fine white shirt staining in red as San sobbed into his chest. “It’s okay, everything’s fine.”</p><p>“Help me, please…” San breathed out, silently weeping. “Please, make it stop…”</p><p>“I will,” Wooyoung said as his own breath hitched in agony. “I will make it stop.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m-” San started, then grimaced as Wooyoung tapped the gauze over the gash on the right side of his forehead. “I’m sorry…”</p><p>“For what?” Wooyoung asked calmly as the nerves under his fingertips screamed at him to stop already, like they had been doing ever since he had to practically drag San off the bathroom floor after making sure he was not going to pass out hyperventilating. They fell once on their way to the bed and San was not so perturbed by the sudden loss of balance, but Wooyoung had to take about ten seconds of teeth-gritting to regain his composure enough to complete the task of tucking Choi San into bed before he left to go get the first aid kit. Yes, it hurt like a bitch to move around, but Wooyoung somehow found the will to keep pushing a little bit more as San blankly stared at the sheets, all light momentarily gone from his pretty eyes.</p><p>“For-” San stopped to stare at the void behind Wooyoung as Wooyoung gently wiped the dried edges of the raw cut, still too disoriented to finish a sentence at once go. “For witnessing that… For making you do so much…”</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t ask. It wasn’t like he was an open book either anyways.</p><p>“It’s not like I would leave you in that state.”</p><p>“Still.”</p><p>Wooyoung discarded the used gauze to grab a clean one. “This might need stitches.”</p><p>“You can use the… the thing in there.” San pointed at the small pouch, going with Wooyoung’s attempt at changing the topic. Wooyoung turned around the find the small bottle of liquid stitches and looked around the many words written on it like it was some alien technology.</p><p>“How do you even use this?..”</p><p>San blinked once, completely dazed like he just forgot every single word and their usage. “Uh, you just- You need to-” He stooped, closed his eyes and let a shaky sigh expand his frail chest. “I’m sorry, I’m just kinda-”</p><p>“It’s okay, Manager-nim.” Wooyoung cut him off this time, biting back a smile at the smoke coming out of the man’s ears. “You’ve seen me worse, if anything this is payback.”</p><p>San blinked as his eyes widened, stars finally back at them, twinkling cutely. “No, I appreciate your transparency, please-”</p><p>“You cleaned my puke off the floor, right?”</p><p>San’s shoulders deflated. “Y-Yes…”</p><p>“It’s fine, stop saying you’re sorry.” Wooyoung uncapped the bottle and pulled attached the wand out carefully. “It doesn’t sound like you.”</p><p>San blinked, lowered his gaze bashfully and grabbed the blanket on his lap inside his palms. “Okay…”</p><p>Wooyoung wasn’t sure why a part of him constantly yearned to give him the biggest of hugs, knowing of the pain it would inflict on his poor body, especially after he overworked it to this extent. He shut the little voice whispering <em>arms, around, quick</em> on repeat like a broken record, raised the neglected little bottle both their eye level. “But tell me how this works.”</p><p>San bit back the smile as he pushed Wooyoung’s hands holding the cap and the bottle separately, closing the gap in between. “First of all, it’s basically glue, so don’t keep it open.”</p><p>“Glue?” Wooyoung blinked at the now-closed lid as it stung his fingertips mercilessly.</p><p>San nodded slowly. “Yes. You hold the edges of the wound and-” He stopped, gazed somewhere far behind Wooyoung and cracked up, his shoulders shaking as he tucked his chin to his chest. “Sorry, I-” He giggled, covered his face with his palms, waves of laughter shaking his small body rudely.</p><p>Wooyoung frowned. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing, just-” San let another set of giggles push out the air inside his lungs. “You don’t- You don’t have the sunflower… I like looking at you.”</p><p>“Sunflower?” Wooyoung gawped, his hands holding the bottle midair. San blinked once. “You don’t see them?”</p><p>Wooyoung looked around to see the shattered glass and dirty laundry all over the bedroom floor and nothing of sort, then at San’s eyes hazy as they looked into his own, sweet as ever but something was definitely awry. “I don’t see any.”</p><p>“You don’t?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>San smiled. “Oh, it’s okay. They sometimes scare me, I wouldn’t want them disturbing you.”</p><p>“They disturb you?” Wooyoung asked as he pointed at San to oppose the edges of the slit together. He did as he closed his eyes, the small smile on his lips dimmed but still there. “A bit higher,” Wooyoung warned with focused eyebrows. San adjusted.</p><p>“No, no, a bit to the left.” San adjusted again. “Like this?”</p><p>“Yes, don’t poke it.” The short wand covered in skin glue, as he was just informed, easily glided over the dark red line on San’s forehead, sealing the clean edges shut with a sheer line and making San flinch slightly before he eased into it.</p><p>“They are not exactly pleasant looking. Sometimes they are rotten.”</p><p>Wooyoung watched in awe as the transparent liquid hardened into a substance to hold the wound together. “Oh, is that so?..”</p><p>San opened his eyes, his smile got even bigger when Wooyoung winced away, something mocking twisting its edges. “How come you don’t know how a liquid stitch works, anyways?”</p><p>A sudden feeling churned his gut as Wooyoung gawped for words for a second before turning the lid off, shoving the bottle into San’s hands in panic and jumping off the bed. Right. Of course, he had been too careless. “Anyways, it seems fine now. I should clean around a bit before people arrive.”</p><p>“People are coming?” San asked, more agitated than Wooyoung expected as he still held the red line together. Wooyoung wondered if it was in vain and the glue was already hardened enough, chose to not warn San as he picked up the first shirt casually splayed out on the floor to smell it. It stank almost a week old. “Yes, they insisted on coming here because we were already late.” He picked another, decided anything should be rewashed at this point after a quick whiff. “Don’t worry, I told them I forgot to tell you about today.”</p><p>“Why?” San asked incredulous,</p><p>Wooyoung stopped and raised his head to blink at him. “Because they thought they could do the shot here or something-”</p><p>“No, why did you say it was your fault?” San said, frustrated. “You told me days ago, even reminded me yesterday.”</p><p>Wooyoung’s eyes widened only slightly before he regained his composure to toss the laundry over a vacant chair for the time being. “You told me not to tell them you’re sick.”</p><p>“Yes, but, now they will think it’s your fault…” San put a sulked, full-on pout and all and Wooyoung was <em>baffled</em>.</p><p>“It’s…” He started, then blinked a couple of times to dissolve the haze clouding his mind. Two questions emerged at the clean creaks: one, was San actually upset, and two, how did Wooyoung dare think he was cute for a quarter of a second?</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, what if they scold you because of this?~” San whined once more, hugging his knees covered in the blanket, his pink lips plush and puckered as Byeol hopped on the bed to assist his sullen expression with cuddles. “Byeol-ah, Wooyoung-ie is playing the hero.” He snitched at the cat as he held her up, Byeol staring at him horrified but staying put. Wooyoung thought she was rather well-behaved when compared to other cats outside the wall he witnessed screeching at nothing at random times.</p><p>“It’s fine.” He said dismissively and turned around to check the door when the bell went off, successfully irritating his already overstimulated brain and distracting him from San cooing at Byeol with a “Byeol-ah, your sunflower is kinda cute, you know?”.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung liked to believe his instincts strong enough to save his ass on multiple occasions.</p><p>They sure as hell came in handy during his vicious past, they surely offered him new opportunities as soon as he stepped inside the pseudo-safe barriers of the wall. He could handle most inconveniences and act accordingly with his limited knowledge of the privileged technology world he was suddenly thrown into, unmistakably thanks to, first, his brain overworking at any second of any day, two, his strong as steel instincts.</p><p>So, right from the second he opened the door to three women, two pissed as hell and one he had never seen before but looked like another assistant Kang Sora will try and dissuade from breathing, to the very moment San’s mom and Sora herself were standing right in front of San’s bed as he almost cowered behind his blankets, Wooyoung’s instincts kept screaming at him that it was bad news. Even Byeol decided the atmosphere wasn’t for her as soon as they stepped foot into the room and ran away into the depths of the huge house.</p><p>San’s mother took one look at her son sitting across the head of his bed, as far away from the interrogating eyes as he could be, with a devilish but also hazy smile, and it wasn’t another second that both Sora and Wooyoung were kicked out of the suffocating room. Wooyoung would’ve been fine with not being included in people’s business like he promised himself to do so for caution’s sake, but his sense of danger was somehow askew lately, for reasons unknown.</p><p>He watched Sora angrily stomp the stairs down just for the sake of shoving her pride down in absolutely no one’s throat and showing she wasn’t happy about it because <em>what the fuck, no one kicks her out like that.</em> Wooyoung leisurely followed her angry footsteps echoing throughout the whole house, his instincts turning his feet in the opposite direction and telling him not to meddle simultaneously. He would really rather say he couldn’t care less, but, worry ate him up from inside out, <em>for some reason</em>, something telling him he shouldn’t exactly trust San’s mother, something about the limited times he had seen her. She was the only person who could be worse than Sora in terms of bitchiness, and that said a lot about the pure evil she possessed.</p><p>Or maybe Wooyoung was being too dramatic.</p><p>“You know what’s up with him?” Sora didn’t spare him a glance as she sprinted for the couch, but Wooyoung could tell the curious tinge to her voice, probably for the for wrong reasons.</p><p>“No, I don’t actually.” He discarded as he too walked the gap between the stairs and the couch adjacent to Sora who tsked at him. It wouldn’t have been wrong to say he expected getting torn to shreds by then before even he had the chance to put his aching butt on the couch, though Sora seemed to have no intentions other than verbal abuse.</p><p>“How do you not know such crucial knowledge? You are literally his assistant. What use do you have if you don’t know basic information about your boss?”</p><p>Wooyoung was too tempted to snap back with a <em>says his fiancé</em>, but realized he really was too achy and sore to be dealing with Sora screeching at him. “I would know if it was info available to me.” He said instead, calmly.</p><p>He was told the whole staff would be coming over to proceed with the shots with a last-minute change of set, but all Wooyoung could see was the poor new assistant probably worrying about the next time Kang Sora would lash out at her for absolutely no reason or scheduling her 14:30 manicure appointment clashing with her newly found acting gig, no in-between. Wooyoung didn’t have enough fingers to count how many people called it quits on Sora’s causal mistreatment inflicted on everyone she so far as caught a bad vibe from.</p><p>She slit open her red mouth to probably screech like Wooyoung expected to see, but instead, she pathetically yelped as Byeol gracefully walked closer to the couch she was occupying.</p><p>“Why is this thing walking around? Go lock it up somewhere!”</p><p>Wooyoung looked at Byeol at the order obviously directed at him, wondering how the fuck would he move her while he couldn’t even touch her, also feeling kind of offended because Byeol was a sweetheart and even she was getting her awful mistreatment from <em>the</em> Kang Sora.</p><p>Just like it was prompted, or like the cat could read his thoughts, Byeol meowed at him, gave Sora a boring glare and then sprinted towards the stairs, somehow distressed. Wooyoung sighed a relief sigh internally as his skin kept reminding him of the remnants of every single move he made today.</p><p>For another couple of minutes that simply felt like an eternity, the only sound to distract Wooyoung’s wary brain was Sora’s long but neatly shaped and attentively colored nails tapping on her phone’s screen and he still, for some reason, felt the breath stuck in his throat from time to time. His gaze kept shifting at the stairs that the cat just disappeared, sometimes lingering there a bit too long, like lingering would actually let him hear and thinking of the possibilities of what they might’ve been doing in the room. She seemed mad, fuming even and hate dripped down her vicious eyes, so scolding was a strong candidate- or maybe it was just her face. But was it when she also talked that viciousness with no drawbacks?</p><p>It was hard to believe she was the one who gave birth to Choi San, who never missed a tiny bit of his smile on his face with dimples to complete the set, his eyes turning into little crescents whenever he did so much as grin, and he was the nicest person too, it was so fucking odd that he had to be stuck with the grumpiest, most hateful people in the entire world. Wooyoung also wasn’t sure where all the sentimentalism and the angry prickling of the corners of his eyes came from. It wasn’t like she could actually do something to him or anything.</p><p>Right?..</p><p>Wooyoung shook his head to the side. He was being incredibly dramatic, and it needed to be dealt with immediately.</p><p>When the heels clicking on the floor sliced the illusory silence into cubes Wooyoung was not sure how long he had been sitting there, his skin getting branded over and over again under his bloody suit. All he knew was the dread darkening his heart was like nothing he ever felt, and he wasn’t sure of the reason. San’s mother headed downstairs with all of her glory and rage, her hair in a tight updo and makeup with the coldest of tones, lips like a thin line and her eyes looking like they would shoot lasers and the way she holds her clutch in the middle, so tight in case people dared touch it and worse, grab and run it. With every graceful step down the stairs, Wooyoung realized more and more she could be a character of his nightmares as she made eye contact.</p><p>“Sora, dear?” She said instead. Wooyoung stood up to maybe escape a bit of wraith, questioning what it was with rich people and not looking at the person they were referring to. “Can you wait for me downstairs; San doesn’t feel so good. We have to reschedule.”</p><p>Wooyoung could see the glint in Sora’s eyes as she too stood up and left with a polite bow to her, eyes burning with irritation and curiosity, but no questions asked. The assistant followed after her, silent and obedient.</p><p>“I don’t know how much you saw.” She sneered as she closed the gap between their feet, every step thumping at Wooyoung’s chest, constricting, terrifying. “But considering you found him in that state, it must be a lot. He tends to not remember what he does in that state, so I am not sure what he said to you either.”</p><p>She smelled like a mixture of flowers, Wooyoung racked through his brain to give them a name but the books did not teach him about their scents, only that they were pretty.</p><p>“And usually, I would’ve made sure that you would never <em>ever </em>talk again. But-” She fetched a small checkbook out of her purse, quickly dribbling over it. “Unfortunately, getting rid of you right now would be too much work, it’s just not worth it.”</p><p>Wooyoung knew how flowers looked and how they smelled, the only problem was that he couldn’t match them in his head. He didn’t have the time to smell through every bouquet, slowly naming them as he enjoyed their prettiness.</p><p>He knew none of them smelled like they were rotten on some funeral aisle like they smelled on San’s mother.</p><p>“So,” She muttered, her rotten soul reflecting on her perfume. “I am sure we can find some middle ground here, given that you want to continue your life as usual.”</p><p>She tore the piece of paper suddenly worth thousands of dollars, put it into Wooyoung’s front pocket diligently, a smirk stretching her thin lips to the sides before she leaned back away and wiped her hand to her foulard around her throat.</p><p>“Stay till he falls asleep, then leave like you’ve never been here today.”</p><p>Her heels fighting with the flooring was the last thing before the house fell into silence once more and this time Wooyoung felt like suffocating on the anticipation as he walked up the stairs as carefully as he could with his nerves having a full-blown riot at this point, folding the check and shoving it deep into the pocket before he stepped inside San’s room attentively.</p><p>“Manager?” He made himself known as he knocked on the door, gentle as to not startle the man hugging his cat wrapped inside blankets, his gaze silent and dazed. Somehow the scene made Wooyoung’s heart drop to his stomach.</p><p>“Come in, Wooyoung-ssi.” San said, almost inaudible but Wooyoung had no trouble hearing. Wooyoung also heard the sound of his heart-shattering echo inside his stomach where it resided. He walked inside the room to continue his cleaning that was more of a distraction at this point. His footsteps were raging loud as he picked up the pile he prompted over the chair, adding new ones on the floor just to have something to do. The only sound other than soft taps of his feet was the warm purring escalating with every gentle stroke of San’s hand on Byeol’s back.</p><p>“What- What did she-” Wooyoung stalled as he carried the dirty pile of laundry to the basket behind the bathroom door, avoiding the shatters of glass still scattered on the floor on his way. He cleared his throat nervously when San gave no response to his anxious blabbering, so he kneeled carefully to pick up whatever was not glass off the floor. “Did she, you know-”</p><p>“You don’t have to do that, Wooyoung-ssi.” San murmured softly against the blanket, eyes unfocused and so tired. Wooyoung gulped as his throat betrayed him, too and starting constricting on itself.</p><p>“It’s okay, someone might get hurt. I should just quickly get this-”</p><p>“Sunflowers are withering, Byeol-ah…”</p><p>Wooyoung stopped, lowered whatever he had in his hands. San’s unblinking eyes were not on him, but he could feel them bore holes into the bed.</p><p>“I always have to watch… watch them as they wither and rot… in front of my eyes?” He whispered, swaying back and forth ever so slightly. “Did I do something wrong?..”</p><p>“San-”</p><p>“I didn’t ask for any of this.” A single teardrop shed down his pale cheeks, followed by many more in no time. “Why does everyone act like- act like I want to see sunflowers and shadows and hear threats, why does everyone-”</p><p>Wooyoung dropped whatever he had and did not mind the pain of fraction on his knees and elbows as he rushed to sit right in front of the man gasping for breath by the time he closed the gap.</p><p>“San, hey, it’s-”</p><p>“Do- Do you think I like—like sunflowers? No, they’re cre- creepy as fuck, okay, I hate it!” San hiccupped and Byeol squirmed out of his grasp, obviously bothered by San’s outbreak. Tears streamed down and hiccups choked the breath out of his lungs as he lowered his head. “It’s so scary, please… I didn’t ask for being crazy…”</p><p>“San-ah.” Wooyoung said when he could fend off the hand squeezing every single organ in his body mercilessly. San did not raise his head off his knees, soaking off the blanket. “Hey.” He demanded, rested his hand on San’s knee, though all it did was burn like hellfire.</p><p>“It’s not your fault.” He whispered softly, his own heart doing twenty flips inside his chest, but he was adamant on acting calm. “You didn’t ask for any of it, don’t be so hard on yourself.”</p><p><em>Two-fucking-face</em>, a weak voice yelped at him at the back of his mind and he did his best to ignore it for the time being.</p><p>San slowly raised his forehead off his knees, his hands grasping on the blanket for dear life over his thighs, the rims of his two pretty foxy eyes red as Wooyoung never seen them and his cheeks glistening. “That’s horrible advice…”</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he retreated his hand, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I am taking it back if you don’t want it.”</p><p>San frowned, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “No. I already took it. It’s mine now.”</p><p>“You will have to do with it because I’m a terrible advisor.”</p><p>His frown turned into a wet pout as San looked away. “I’m terrible in general so I win.”</p><p>“Oh, I think you are not aware of how competitive I can get, either.”</p><p>San didn’t answer.</p><p>“You’re not terrible or anything,” Wooyoung stated matter-of-factly as he packed the first aid kit back up, then walked off the bed to discard it on San’s desk for now. “Honestly, you were so nice I hated you.”</p><p>“Ha… ted?..” He faintly heard as he once again attempted to clean the broken glass of the floor with a broom he fetched from the bathroom.</p><p>“Well, you could say that.” Glass shards glistened under the artificial light and seemed beautiful for an only a quarter of a second. “You should by far know I’m not great with people.”</p><p>San didn’t answer. Wooyoung wasn’t sure he liked his silence as much as he thought he would.</p><p>“Plus…” He couldn’t hold the smirk pulling the corner of his lip upwards as he fished the check neatly tucked into his breast pocket after he carefully discarded the broken glass, walked towards the bed to softly limp himself over it and waved it in the air. “Your mom bribed me.”</p><p>The absolute astonishment San’s face twisted into as he stared at the piece of paper worth thousands was absolutely hilarious until half of it turned into pure sadness.</p><p>“She fucking bribed you…”</p><p>Wooyoung lowered his hand and looked intently at the pout newly returned at San’s bottom lip. “What? Is it fake or something?”</p><p>San frowned as looked at the paper. “No, why would it be, just- That’s so fucking rude when all you did was-”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked for a second longer of silence then tucked the paper back into his pocket. “Why would it be rude, I am eating the rich.”</p><p>Another wave of shock erased the frown off San’s face. “What?”</p><p>“What? She is gonna throw thousands at my face and I’m gonna cry because I’m humiliated? No, I’m gonna pick everything up and buy me some booze.”</p><p>“Shut up.” San snorted, smile finally returning to his pale face as he pushed Wooyoung’s shoulder slightly, only for his hand to freeze midair for reasons Wooyoung was not so sure of. Did he grimace unwillingly? It didn’t even hurt that much, did he give it away? <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>“Anyways.” He jumped up and regretted it immediately when his legs started burning with the friction. “You should probably go to sleep; you look like death.”</p><p>A very out-of-character eyeroll was rolled San’s pretty eyes. “I am being babysat.” </p><p>Wooyoung somehow wanted to giggle as he helped him get under the heavy sheets. “You’re acting so not like yourself.”</p><p>“Are you gonna scold me?” Obnoxious pleading eyes welcomed him when Wooyoung was done tucking San in. He scoffed, fixed the crinkles to his suit jacket, a smile still pulling the corners of his lips. “No, I will get fired. I like money.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t get fired…” San whispered, eyes already drooping with sleep. Wooyoung’s smile deepened unwillingly, he had to bite it down. “You’re kinda cute like this. Normally you would never swear.”</p><p>“You’re not…” The last of San’s consciousness let out. “You obliterated all the sunflowers… You stepped on all of them… now they stink…”</p><p>Wooyoung wasn’t so sure about the reason behind the warmth in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>The shrill sound of the doorbell dissolved the darkness as Wooyoung opened his eyes. The confusion hit him when a quarter of the daze left his mind.</p><p>He was sitting up, presumably on a bed and his drowsy mind told him he definitely was sleeping prior to the doorbell pulling him out of his dreamland-</p><p>No, when he thought about it, the land that was supposed to be filled with dreams was empty and deserted. He frowned. He wasn’t so sure if the land was completely empty or he simply didn’t remember. All he could think about was how shitty of a nap it was, how confused his nerves were about waking up and making his constant state of pain presume. It’s been a while since had sleep this bad, considering his frantic nerves often kept him awake and squirming at night.</p><p>He turned his head around to check San, who was safe asleep with fluttering eyelashes and a slightly restless frown to his eyebrows but wrapped inside the blanket like a burrito. <em>Maybe a nightmare</em>, he thought as he got up to the doorbell screeching his drowsiness away. He didn’t look like he would wake up any soon but still, an anxious feeling clawed at his chest at the thought of San’s sleep being disturbed prematurely.</p><p>“Who the fuck…” He grumbled as he stepped down the stairs, his legs burning fire by the time he finished and touched the screen of the camera that showed outside the door. It wasn’t exactly in his own better interest to see the other Choi brother full-on grinning at it.</p><p>“Hello, Wooyoung-ssi!” Choi Jongho beamed as soon as the door opened and Wooyoung was immediately taken aback by his lively demeanor.</p><p>“Hello?..” Wooyoung said, feeling his own limited energy being sucked out of his aching bones.</p><p>“You’re not letting me in?”</p><p>“I-” He stuttered, looked back towards upstairs and stepped back to let him in. He was the little brother of the owner of this exact house, anyways. Though the anxious feeling refused to subside at the thought of having anyone around when San was in this state. Reasons still annoyingly unknown.</p><p>Jongho walked straight into the kitchen and started to dig some drawers and cupboards and found himself a bag of potato chips, then he stopped by the fridge to get himself a beverage. “I heard my poor big brother was going through it again and mom wasn’t going to stop until she nagged every single person in the house, so I had to save myself.” He explained, even though all Wooyoung did was stand beside the door like a drowsy sleepy log. “You want one?” Jongho asked as he pointed a beer can at him. Wooyoung shook his head a no since he was supposed to still be working. Probably.</p><p>“Are you supposed to be here?” He asked, watching Jongho walk towards the couch that had the best angle of the television, a huge pack of chips and two cans of beers for himself crowding his arms, then make himself comfortable as he told the television to open itself. It did with a recorded greeting of some lady.</p><p>“I could ask you the same thing.” Jongho gave him an amused look as he ripped the bag of ships open, spilled some over the couch but did not mind it. “I thought he was gonna be alone? Are you on scavenge hunting again till his meds wear off?”</p><p>Wooyoung sighed a heavy sigh as he too walked towards the couches to rest his body protesting his every single life choice today. When was this boy going to let go of him stealing useless shit from rich people? Antique rooms were literally there to hold stuff they bought to quench their thirst of showing off their money and never to be looked back at ever again, was it that deep? No. No, it wasn’t.</p><p>But he didn’t exactly look like he would be snitching any time soon, since if he had the intentions, he would’ve done so by now, though it was frustrating all the same.</p><p>“Nah, actually your mother covered my money needs.” He rambled unwillingly so but Jongho was busy picking a channel to watch with his beer on his lap, ready to be spilled and be extra work for Wooyoung any time.</p><p>“Don’t worry about me being here, though,” Jongho added after a while, right after Wooyoung realized it was no use to just standing there like a stick and decided to sit on another couch. “I got my permission.”</p><p>Wooyoung hummed as Jongho stopped at some cheesy rom-com at the peak of their breakup just as the woman was talking about how amazing the climate change system is and how convenient it was with absolutely no contribution to the plot. Apparently, the police were also doing a great job. And cleaners. And soulmate testing companies were their savior since it made them find each other.</p><p>Watching television wasn’t something Wooyoung used to do often, simply because even the dramas and movies were mere government propaganda and an attempt at creating the illusion of a perfect world, not even one mention of the dreadful wall and enormous dome over their heads to make sure it felt real enough that people felt safe when the world slowly died. It was pathetic, to Wooyoung, to Hongjoong and even to Yunho who did not love to talk about these kinds of thing, though the efficiency of it all was evident enough in the way people inside the wall behaved. It irked Wooyoung quite a bit, if he had to admit. Seeing huge billboards about how amazing their artificialism was and how the people above it all were the divine power was not something he was able to get used to seeing in his two years of being surrounded by it all. Not when he knew everything was basically a complete lie.</p><p>A sigh expanded his chest suddenly feeling suffocated and he considered maybe checking up on San to see if he was awake, feeling better, but decided against it as Jongho let out a giggle after chucking half of his beer can in. “How are you gonna act like this and allow people to have it on camera, like-” He stuffed a handful of chips inside his mouth, pointing at the screen. “Why does she look like she hates him when they’re dramatically breaking up to probably be together at the end, huh? That’s stupid. At least put some spirit, act like you love him or something.”</p><p>Wooyoung first blinked at him, then at the screen of the man sobbing on the floor and the woman staring at him like it was some spectacle. “Maybe she’s doing a good job then.” He mumbled. Jongho let out another hearty giggle.</p><p>“Unbelievable… You know Kang Sora and hyung are like this to each other too.” He said after popping the other can open and gulping down a few sips. “With that high of a matching rate.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked, then nodded slightly. If there was anything he could get behind it was Kang Sora being an evil witch.</p><p>“He used to take tests, like constantly.” A glint blinked in his eyes as Jongho opened another can of beer. “He would keep getting tests, unhealthy amount of them, but would never get matched because he wouldn’t meet the minimum 40% criteria.” His shoulders jolted as he let out a giggle. “Then he started working at a testing company and gets himself a 97. I used to tease him about how he should just join a company and make himself a test. But then the bastard went and actually did it.”</p><p>He shook his head from side to side with more giggles, though Wooyoung found the situation rather <em>disturbing </em>than funny.</p><p>“Oh, is that so,” he managed to say, trying to sound neutral. He did not know why the thought of San being that <em>desperate </em>to find a match bothered him so much. He could point out about a thousand things wrong with that thought only. But apparently, in the end, as Jongho said, San actually did it. <em>So congrats to him? </em>Wooyoung rolled his eyes instead, getting more annoyed by the situation as seconds went by, shifted in his seat a bit to relieve the particularly sharp pain at his thigh. <em>Pathetic</em>. It was pathetic to take a fucking test to end up with someone like—like Kang Sora.</p><p>But he wasn’t going to proclaim his hatred for the particular person to her future brother-in-law.</p><p>He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Byeol tapped her small paws down the stairs to place herself on the couch Jongho was occupying one side of, licking her paws gracefully and distracting Jongho’s mostly meaningless blabbering and Wooyoung’s tired gaze on the screen.</p><p>“Did you know she hates me?” Jongho waved an empty beer can in the unconcerned cat’s direction. “Never comes near me and all, but looks at me and stays away from me like I’m cursed. That or my lovely brother is training her to do that. He is good at that stuff, you know, isolating me.”</p><p>Wooyoung almost laughed at the notion of San training his cat not to go near someone, but was more mesmerized by the possibility that maybe she knew. Maybe she could sense that they both were not meant to be touched, could it be possible? The books he read before never said anything about cats just <em>knowing</em>, but maybe it was because Wooyoung openly didn’t like to be touched. About Jongho, he wasn’t sure, though San training his cat possibility did not really seem feasible to him.</p><p>“What do you mean isolating you?” he asked him to elaborate even though he should be minding his own business. Jongho shrugged as an answer.</p><p>“She doesn’t come near me, either.” He said instead, was shocked by how tired his voice sounded. “Manager said she’s not usually this way.”</p><p>“Did he, now?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked at the mischief in Jongho’s voice but was too tired to question it.</p><p>“How long has he been sleeping anyways?”</p><p><em>6 hours</em>, the realization hit. Yes, he had slept through some of it, but that was almost the entirety of his daily shift.</p><p>“So, you were with him for 6 hours? Why didn’t you leave?” The same mischief shined through. Wooyoung wanted to evaporate spontaneously instead of finding a justification other than <em>being worried</em>. Surely, he could’ve leave hours ago, now would be a great time since his brother was there and he wasn’t going to be alone. But the glint in Jongho’s eyes told him otherwise.</p><p><em>Careless</em>.</p><p>Wooyoung for once agreed with the little voice whispering at him. <em>Also fucking absurd</em>, he added mentally, to think that his own brother would hurt San in his sleep.</p><p>His sleep that makes him incredibly defenseless and vulnerable and open to any kind of danger in his unconscious state and-</p><p>Wooyoung smacked the other little voice at the back of his mind into silence and cleared his throat. It burned from inside out, a shameless warning. “It’s still my worktime.” He said simply. Even Byeol did not buy it. “Will you be staying the night?”</p><p>“Oh, no, actually.” Jongho giggled, putting the empty can over the coffee table. Other cans rolled off his lap and over the couch. “I need to be at home by midnight otherwise they report me as missing and send out a search party, and Yeosangie is coming to take me out in a bit.”</p><p>Ah, Wooyoung nodded to himself, of course, Kang Yeosang.</p><p>Kang Yeosang that apparently worked his whole life to find a cure to something incurable, Kang Yeosang that that looked at him that way with such desperation in his eyes, also daring to risk both, maybe all over their lives for info Wooyoung didn’t have.</p><p><em>Chose</em> to not have.</p><p>“You seem close.” He said instead, diverting his gaze to the shiny flooring, not really loving the answer he would hear.</p><p>“Yeah, he has been here my whole life.”</p><p>The enthusiasm, the joy to his voice suddenly brightening up and a shy but dazzling smile plastered on the face of the red-haired boy sitting with a pillow on his lap he kept picking at, would normally make Wooyoung retch, if he was being honest. It wasn’t love he was against at, not at all, but all he had to say was if he ever got his hands on the man who made him suffer all his life, he would never be sending heart eyes, as long as they didn’t chop the pathetic bastard’s head off.</p><p>He didn’t exactly retch at the possibility that this tiny sufferer boy, who no one knew the reason to his pained screams every month killing him for days, in the world of privileged non-sufferers and prejudiced notions on who could love who and who should simply be shunned if they don’t behave, maybe found his soulmate.</p><p><em>Maybe. </em>Further confirmation from Hongjoong needed on that.</p><p>“I should check up on manager.” He said as he kicked himself off the couch, his limbs aching unbelievably sore at this point, but he was used to it. He’s been through worse surely, he knew it was a long way till his limit. Jongho’s giggle at the unknown reverberated after him as Byeol followed him into the room upstairs silent with Choi San’s peaceful sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung loved the blue moonlight shining over their intricately prepared dinner table, just for the two of them.</p><p>“Hyung, when can you go back to work?”</p><p>A giggle gently accompanied the silence. “Are you bored of me, Wooyoung-ah?”</p><p>“Of course, no.” Wooyoung laughed. “How dare you think I can get bored of you.”</p><p>He didn’t miss the abashed smile when Seonghwa tilted his head to the front, shadows hiding it in a second. “I might get used to this actually. My food is ready before I even ask, my groceries are taken care of, my laundry is clean.”</p><p>“So I’m your housekeeper?” Wooyoung chewed on a piece of salad, just to have something in his mouth in between his sips.</p><p>Seonghwa let another giggle, hearty as it vibrated through Wooyoung’s chest, chewed on a perfectly cooked piece of meat with the ghost of a smile curving the corner of his lip. “I might be back in a few weeks. Depends on how long the physiotherapy takes, honestly.”</p><p>Wooyoung nodded, washed the savory salad dressing down with an unnecessarily large gulp of red wine. “Does it still hurt?”</p><p>“Not really, no.” He eyed the cast still heavy over his arm. “I don’t really want to hurry and break it over again at work anyways.”</p><p>A huff. “I’m surprised you never did actually.”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>Another giggle, this time doubled and harmonious.</p><p>“ So, how was your day?” Seonghwa asked after a couple of seconds of peaceful silence. Wooyoung took a breath too deep, opened his mouth to deflate everything in his mind like a balloon until he was left small and wrinkly on the floor, taking sips too big every two perfectly aligned sentences.</p><p>“Then all of a sudden they’re all at the door!” He waved his hand in the air, tipsy enthusiasm taking over his body as both of them were splayed out on the couch, dinner table forgotten to be cleaned in the morning.</p><p>“What for?” Seonghwa replied, trying to match Wooyoung’s heat but failing as a pleasant warmth spread over his body.</p><p>“I don’t know!” Wooyoung exclaimed, then downed the rest of his glass just to refill it to the brim, almost spilling as his vacant hand fell over to mindlessly play with Seonghwa’s hair. “It’s rich people shit, hyung, I wouldn’t understand.”</p><p>Seonghwa opened his eyes to smile up at him. “Yeah? What happened after then?”</p><p>“What happened is only between that old hag and Choi San only. And the cat.” Wooyoung giggled to himself thinking about the cat. “I should’ve asked the cat.”</p><p>“And would it tell you anything?”</p><p>“I don’t know, she avoids me, kinda...”</p><p>Seonghwa nodded, his lips pouty and so red around the rim of his own glass. “What about the check you were talking about earlier?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s my bribe money.”</p><p>“<em>Your what?</em>”</p><p>“Bribe money,” Wooyoung emphasized the words this time. Seonghwa shot him a warning glare and opened his mouth to maybe gave him several advices about how wrong it was.</p><p>Wooyoung beat him to it, raising an accusatory finger at the man that rose his eyebrows as far as they went. “You’re doing it too! Don’t tell me how unethical or insulting it was. What’s up with you people and telling me to refuse money, oh my god, I would <em>never</em>.”</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” Seonghwa warned, but somehow still gentle. “These people are not to play with. They will think they own you just because they gave you some money. They think they can make you do anything, okay, you need to be careful-”</p><p>“Hyung, it’s fineee~” Wooyoung slurred, already willingly surrendering to intoxication. “It wasn’t like I would tell anyone anyways, I don’t care.”</p><p>“Yes, but, you should still-”</p><p>“Hyung.” Wooyoung interrupted, jumped up and spilled a couple of drops of red but did not mind. “What we should do is dance a little bit.”</p><p>Seonghwa gulped down his own glass right before Wooyoung could pull him up to match his movements uncoordinated in nature. “Wait, wait a bit-”</p><p>Their giggles were harmonious, and the pale blue of the moon seeped through the glass to dance around them. Wooyoung loved nights just like this one.</p><p>“Hyung, you can’t tell any of this to anyone!” He suddenly exclaimed through another giggle, a hand covering his lips and the other holding a new glass of wine, music engulfing them both as they danced around the living room.</p><p>“Oh, then, should I delete my blog about Choi San, composed of every single detail you told me?”</p><p>“Hyung~.” A whine escaped, and then a giggle. Wooyoung felt the edges of his vision blur ever so slightly, his irritated skin forgot the pain of his movements as the warmth gently travelled through his veins. “Manager is not like them, okay. You would love him if you two met.”</p><p>“I would?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Wooyoung took another mouthful before putting the glass down on the floor, next to their third empty bottle. “He’s disgustingly nice and so kind and thinks about others all the time and- and-” He stopped to press a thoughtful hand against his mouth. “He’s always on the bright side and sometimes does not act so dumb and- Did I say he’s kind?”</p><p>“You did.” Seonghwa giggled. The music dimmed down a few volumes upon his command. Wooyoung grabbed his good arm and dragged him towards his bedroom.</p><p>“Yeah, but, double it all. No triple it all.” He giggled when they laid down on the covers, rosy cheeks facing each other. “He would never let me be used by anyone. He’s like the best person I know and mind you, I have you, hyung.”</p><p>A drowsy smile pulled Seonghwa’s face up. “Am I not the best anymore?”</p><p>“No!” Wooyoung protested violently. “You’re the bestest, shut up.”</p><p>Another giggle, but none of them neither knew nor cared who was responsible.</p><p>“He does sound nice. Now that I know everything about your amazing manager.”</p><p>The corners of his lips were pulled upwards as he traced his finger mindlessly over the cast dressing. “Nah, even I don’t know everything…”</p><p>“Do you want to know?”</p><p>Wooyoung raised his head, met Seonghwa’s gentle eyes with his big ones. Did he want to know?</p><p>No. No, he needed to be careful.</p><p>He needed to be careful, but he wasn’t sure what careful meant anymore.</p><p>“I don’t want to know.” He whispered, his own reflection in Seonghwa’s eyes mocked back at him as it almost got lost in the intricate melody following them inside the room. Seonghwa’s breath fanned over his face gently, his cheeks adorably rosy and eyes hazy in the way Wooyoung was not used to seeing. He also liked seeing Seonghwa’s face so up close, not that he never did but it was never long enough to appreciate his skin basically porcelain, not a flaw in sight. His eyelashes were long just enough to be called pretty, his nose was sculpted by the gods. Cheekbones high and forehead broad, the natural curve of his eyebrows elegant enough to be envied.</p><p>Wooyoung thought he might like his lips against his own too, as their breaths collided and warmth expanded under his clothes he somehow wanted to rip them apart and toss them away. Seonghwa raised his good hand to tuck a strand of sweaty hair behind his ears, his eyes heavy with something so intense and potent right before he leaned back in for second, and Wooyoung could say he liked to taste the wine on his lips full and plush against his own, moving in unison, calm but messy and needy but not so impatient. It felt nice. He didn’t know kisses could feel nice, he wasn’t exactly an expert in any kind of intimacy. The gasping for breath, the desperation for each other. He liked it.</p><p>As he drifted in and out of sleep, he only wished the numbed terrible sting of it also did not exist.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. forsythia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>would be useful to say, yes, that name for the pills is from a random name generator &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wind whistled against his ears.</p><p>“It’s been a while.”</p><p>The man, whose face an insistent secret, was silent as the sunflowers swayed around their bodies, his soft whisper almost lost in the wind. His left hand arose to hover beside his face, the other shortly joining as a line adjacent to the soil under his legs crossed. He could see his movements easily being mirrored, felt the warmth deep in his gut at the familiar act. When was the last time they had a dream they could play together and be silly? When their sick souls let them be free, for the shortest of times?</p><p>Wooyoung remembered their tiny bodies sitting adjacent to each other and playing, giggling, chatting for what seemed like hours, telling stories of what they ate and where they went, about the friends the dream boy made since their last chat, about the mother that seemed to love nagging him and the sister that was annoying as hell, just to forget about every single important detail right before he opened his eyes. It was annoying to have to relearn everything over the next time they could play around, but still left a fuzzy feeling in his stomach every time he felt his soul pulled back into his body.</p><p>Until the dream boy was not the boy in his dreams anymore, but a distant, painful memory.</p><p>The sunflowers stems rustled above their heads, singing a tune Wooyoung was not the fondest of.</p><p>“Life has been weird lately.” He said, voice barely above a whisper but he knew the boy heard him no matter what. “<em>I’ve</em> been weird lately.” Both of them knew the sequence by now; up, then down, left, up again, right, left again, rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat like the particular order eased their minds, danced with the wind. “I needed someone to talk to, maybe.”</p><p>The face he could feel if he reached far enough looked into his soul, eyes unbeknownst to him as a thick fog blanketed his eyes, nose, mouth, and it was okay. It was never an obstacle in their way of being each other’s pillars, not then, not now.</p><p>“I don’t know anymore.” He said when the only answer he received was the wind brushing against his face. “Isn’t it sad? That I have to live in such fear?”</p><p>Down, and right, then twist the hand, then twist again.</p><p>“Isn’t it so stupid that knowing you’re one of them, knowing they are the rationale to all my fears, I keep seeking, I am <em>forced</em> to keep seeking your solace?”</p><p>It was unfair. It was so unfair.</p><p>“I missed you,” Wooyoung whispered, broken and bruised, barely audible. “I hate you so much, but I missed you.”</p><p>The man silently lowered his hands, bringing an end to their little game, and Wooyoung’s stomach dropped. He knew the sequence, the familiar tune, even if it was almost half his living years ago, he knew left came after this, then up and it was either down on right after, but it wasn’t supposed to be over yet. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end, they were supposed to play until one of them stepped some boundaries and was forced to wake up, leaving a fuzzy but nauseating feeling deep in Wooyoung’s gut that faded away as the last lingering color of the dream too dissolved into nothingness.</p><p>“Hey…” Wooyoung croaked out, hands slightly shaking as the force hovering them in the air was nowhere to be seen. The wind whistled angrily against his ears and unfocused eyes bore deep into his soul through their thick fog. “Hey.” He called out as panic crept in at the lack of response, laying his hands on the soil below his legs, daring to move from his spot. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, they were supposed to be silly and childish and comforting as they told each other about their stupid lives but-</p><p>The sunflowers whistled a tune Wooyoung was not fond of and the wind almost overthrew his weak body. He crawled against the man sitting across him, far enough that he can’t reach but close enough that he felt his empty gaze on his clothed skin, hooded in a daze.</p><p>“Answer, please.” He begged, his knees and hands covered in wet soil, desperately trying to close the gap between them to maybe shake, to slap some sense into him and make the dream go back to normal but he knew it was too late. His hands were deep in the ugly moisture, his knees hurt with useless friction. “What’s wrong?” He begged, all the air punched out of his lungs as his desperate crawling was halted abruptly. The impact of the ugly collision made him fall back, he looked up to see what blocked his way and saw nothing but the man sitting silently, legs crossed and delicate hands over his knees. He reached his own, felt the invisible wall push back in return. The wind wheezed through his ears once more and brought a pungent, horrendous smell along.</p><p>The sunflowers wilted and wilted until they were one with the earth.</p><p>“Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned back over his knees, banged his fists on the invisible dome. His heart crashed against his ribcage painfully, the smell making his eyes water. “Please, this can’t happen again, please!” He blinked, a tear wet his cheek, soon to be followed by more. “Please, I can’t take more pain than this, please, just answer!”</p><p>The sunrays were iridescent over the man’s black hair swaying in the wind that brought Wooyoung horrors. He felt his breath catch in his sore throat as he choked out, hands aching against the nothingness insistently. “Why are you doing this to me?! What did I do to deserve this, huh?!” A useless plea. “Just fucking answer, please!”</p><p>His lungs burned, his vision blurred, and his hands ached as he sobbed. Soon the world surrounding them was nothing but filth and dirt, but the unbothered man was as ethereal as he ever was under his invisible dome.</p><p> </p><p>According to what the internet says, dreams hold the ultimate purpose of storing important memories and information you gathered, get rid of unnecessary ones and sort through complicated thoughts and feelings.</p><p>San never felt like his dreams served the same purpose the internet bestowed upon him.</p><p>His dreams always had a boy, a very pretty one, even though he could never remember his face when he woke up, and he was sure no one he ever laid his eyes upon was as pretty as the boy that visited his dreams every night. He was unmistakably sure he never met the boy that played fun games with him, that cuddled him, listened to his childish ramble about his day to day life and always reassured him when he stumbled upon a pebble and scrapped his knee, even put a tiny little kiss over the projection of his small injury in the dream. San liked the dream boy. San <em>loved</em> the dream boy.</p><p>He didn’t understand why his mother thought the dreams that brought him so much joy were so <em>wrong</em>.</p><p>He didn’t understand it fully when his mother told him his magical dreams he kept chirping about were actually not so magical, but rather harmful and something to be fixed. He didn’t understand what could be so wrong about a dreamy friend, why was it so wrong that the friend was a boy rather than a girl and why he had to take some pills to fix the only thing that gave him so much happiness.</p><p>First, he considered objecting and saying his dreams were fine, they didn’t hurt anyone neither did they get in the way of his daily life, but his mother shoved an orange bottle of white pills in his little hands, put a slick smile on her thin red lips as she kneeled to level herself, high walls echoing off the loud music coming from his little brother’s room upstairs that he was not allowed into.</p><p><em>“You’re not being a very good boy right now, so take these pills and make your mother proud.”</em> She muttered through the slit, tucked a stray black strand of hair behind his ear. <em>“You’re Choi San, my precious son, don’t be stupid.”</em></p><p>San was not about to be a stupid disappointment, so he did what he was told.</p><p>“So? How are you holding up?” A voice intruded his revisit to the past, his brain barely registering it was Yeosang as he plopped himself on the couch with one can of beer for him and one for himself. It wasn’t often that Yeosang was the first one to arrive when he arranged a meetup, though this time was just him calling Yeosang and Mingi both and almost begging them to come with his daydream misery voice that obviously worked on persuading both. It was a nice change to see Yeosang agree without any excuses this time.</p><p>“Just peachy…” He muttered, mind still slightly foggy as he stared at the can of beer like it would magically float and reach his hands.</p><p>“What triggered it this time?”</p><p>“I-” He stopped, sighed heavily as he hugged the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m not sure, I was just eating and not really doing anything else.”</p><p>A hiss sound dissolved the haze of his mind and Yeosang popped his can open and gulped down a big sip as Byeol hopped onto San’s blanket-covered lap. “It’s not like it’s all that predictable anyways.”</p><p>“Yeah.” San approved, dazed. His hand brushed against Byeol’s back as she laid over her paws, eyes closed and body lax into his touch. He wondered if Wooyoung was doing well for a second until the doorbell chimed to alert Mingi’s arrival. “I got food!” He announced when Yeosang let him in, putting up two bags of delicious smelling contents.</p><p>It wasn’t long after they were all seated with their respective food boxes in their laps, Mingi somehow not so much present there in the soul.</p><p>“Jongho said that apparently, you slept like a day.”</p><p>San raised his head to give Yeosang and the noodle swinging off his lips an odd look. “How would Jongho even know that?”</p><p>“He was here that day, I came to pick him up because we were-” Yeosang blinked, cheeks getting a deep shade of pink as the additional wine he poured for everyone after the beer finally getting him, and slurped the remaining of the noodle. “I mean, he told me that you were still asleep, like since morning. Then I think you texted the next day.”</p><p>“Oh…” San searched for any recollection and found none. “I don’t remember texting him. It usually takes me a while to be fully awake, but it’s likely I did.”</p><p>“Is it your death pills again?” Mingi took a small break from smiling ear to ear to the phone on his lap like a freshman in love with a senior and gave him a look. San scrunched his nose up but found the description very accurate.</p><p>“What pills?” Yeosang interchanged his scowl between the two as Mingi let another toothy smile turn his eyes on the small screen into crescents. San blinked, his mind still too hazy to process things straight away under the influence of alcohol.</p><p>“Just-” He blinked once more, finding the right words to describe his comatose sleeping pills. “Pills for all this.”</p><p>“There are pills for that?” Yeosang wondered, mostly to himself. “What are you even taking?”</p><p>“Therabinol Morphi—something…”</p><p>“Dude you’ve been taking it for years. How do you still not know the name?” Mingi snickered at him, Yeosang looked even more weirded out.</p><p>“And it makes you sleep like a day?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And you still feel hazy after like- 10 hours you woke up?”</p><p>“Yes.” San answered, impatience crawling in along the fuzzy sensation at his fingertips. Yeosang never really knew or cared about San’s condition more than what San let out, the pills were not a thing San loved to talk about, so it was more than normal that he knew nothing about them. The sudden interrogation made his skin itch, nevertheless.</p><p>He glanced at Mingi in hopes that he would understand and change the topic, but he was too immersed in his phone, still smiling at the screen like he was a teenager.</p><p>“Who are you texting?” He nudged his knee with his foot and caused him to startle so much that some of his beer spilled. “No one- fuck… stop this.”</p><p>San couldn’t help his fond giggles at his obvious distress as he put his phone away in a record millisecond. “Is it your very secret girlfriend?”</p><p>“Do you have a secret girlfriend?” Yeosang moved his eyebrows.</p><p>“No, why would I-”</p><p>“Wow I thought at least you would know, Yeosang-ie,” San exclaimed mischievously, then to proceed to elaborate. “You see, he got himself one when I was away, but not even you know. It is very secret, like top secret, like classified information secret. I wonder if we’re ever meeting her.” He sighed dreamily, overdramatic enough to gauge a very angry eye-roll from Mingi.</p><p>“I don’t have a <em>secret </em>girlfriend San. How old are we? I can’t smile at something on my phone without getting pestered like a pre-pubescent teen now?”</p><p>“Geez okay-” San giggled, raising his hands in the air defensively. “I was just messing with you.”</p><p>Yeosang smirked. “You know, I was going to say maybe we shouldn’t intervene, but you defend yourself too hard that I might get suspicious just a little bit.”</p><p>“You’re the one to talk.” Mingi shot back, another eye-roll.</p><p>Yeosang gave him a daring look, panic evident in the form of a glint in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“Nothing.” Mingi sat back with a pout.</p><p>“What? Yeosang also has a secret relationship I don’t know of?” San asked, kinda lost but also enjoying. It felt like old times for a second, before life got too complicated and basically collapsed on them.</p><p>“Stop assuming everyone is in a relationship just because you have one San-ah.” Yeosang interjected with a huff. “How is she by the way, does she know you are taking a comatose pill every once in a while?”</p><p>San wasn’t sure the reason for immediate tension in the room was emerged by his obligation to take the comatose pills or the fact he just remembered the existence of Sora just now.</p><p>“She- She doesn’t know, yet. I need to tell her someday; I just don’t know how she would react.”</p><p>“Dude, I think you definitely need to tell her,” Mingi said absentmindedly. “She must’ve been confused after seeing you in that state that day.”</p><p>San blinked. “What?”</p><p>Mingi cleared his throat and finally left the poor can on the coffee table. “Didn’t she see you, when you were, you know…”</p><p>“I- I don’t know. I don’t remember a lot of things, Wooyoung-ssi was here. He- ugh, I gave him so much trouble and- and my mother just- Was Sora there?” He questioned himself. “How do you know? Did I text you too?”</p><p>Before Mingi could even answer Yeosang chimed in. “San-ah, I think you need to stop taking those pills. I cannot say for sure without seeing them but clearly, it’s not doing you any good.”</p><p>“If it was up to me I wouldn’t, trust me.” He said, defeated.</p><p>“Why are you taking them anyways?”</p><p>San looked over at Mingi once more, but the man was more interested in Byeol sleeping soundly beside him, and somehow it made San’s insides churn uncomfortably. Mingi knew why he was taking, was <em>forced</em> to take the pills and he just wanted the comfort of his best friend for once, knowing his deepest darkest secret, reassuring him in any way possible, but he was instead petting his cat and exhibiting an embarrassingly obvious attempt at avoiding his gaze.</p><p>He didn’t exactly think Yeosang would expect real answers, probably because he knew why anyone would take such heavy pills, but it still put some unreasonable pressure over him. Maybe he needed to trust him more since Jongho liked him so much, possibly even more than his big brother. Deep down Jongho’s infatuation for Yeosang and vice versa was very obvious, even when they were little and Jongho tried to tag along to their big boy activities, so it wasn’t like San could outright be jealous about it. Besides with San gone, it was nice that there’s at least someone he can rely on in that godawful house. San could only feel guilty about it.</p><p>Their night ended with empty promises about how they needed to do this again and San being very sure that it would hardly happen in the next six months with how busy his upcoming promotions were going to be, along with Mingi and Yeosang’s own schedules that never aligned in not near 4 months apparently. So, he just nodded and hugged his blanket with a big smile until they disappeared behind the corridor.</p><p>The next day’s doorbell that dragged him off his bed late in the morning brought him a mystery package that consisted of two small boxes of pills nearly identical to the ones he’s been taking since forever and a handwritten note with Yeosang’s signature on it. When his eyes adjusted enough to be able to make out words from letters the note read <em>use this instead,</em> and that the pills he is holding in his hands would make him feel a lot less miserable than the one he mentioned. San wasn’t sure anything was ever able to make him feel less miserable, but he decided to trust Yeosang a bit more than he did yesterday.</p><p> </p><p>“…Since our stock prices skyrocketed these past few months, we are also opening two more branches and our development department has been preparing another test prototype.” Kim Jungwoo excitedly showed the graphs and exaggeratingly edited slides of the said branches. Knowing it was all because of the PR stunt of Choi San and Kang Sora working as smoothly as possible made Wooyoung sick to his stomach, but he was probably the only one as the whole meeting room cheered with content hums and silent nods. Wooyoung looked around to see San stare at the slides on the meeting board with a conservative smile on his lips and wanted to roll his eyes. He’s been weird lately. Totally weird.</p><p>Choi San had been doing fine ever since his extreme case of daydreaming as Wooyoung had observed the last one or two weeks, but it was more work for Wooyoung nonetheless since it also took a toll on their whole tight schedule that needed critical readjustments. He had done a great job at not getting yelled at by any producers or directors and reorganizing everything with minimal rushing in between if he might say so, but it still cost him a day or two of sleepless nights. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to not being able to sleep, courtesy of his fucked up nerves, but it meant plenty of time to think and Wooyoung was <em>about to go mad</em>.</p><p>The annoying voice at the back of his head that told him he was being careless at any given minor inconvenience was radio silence since a while back and, to say the least, it was <em>scary</em>, that tiny little voice was powerful and got him through his almost five years inside these pseudo safe walls and losing it all too suddenly was definitely a jarring feeling.</p><p>Another jarring feeling was that lately, his every single train of thought ended up in something circulating around Choi San.</p><p>Choi San was obviously the focus of his whole working life, at least for the time being, and being an assistant was demanding enough that almost all of his waking hours were consumed by work, and therefore Choi San in some way or shape, but <em>fuck</em>, he was absolutely certain wondering if San skipped any of his meals or if he got enough sleep or if he was eating too unhealthy and if he got the flu lately was not part of his assistant workload.</p><p>It was odd, for sure. Wooyoung didn’t even worry about those things for himself.</p><p>Then again, Seonghwa was subject to his worry often enough because he sucked absolute ass at taking care of himself, especially when he got sick every few months and Wooyoung kept nagging him about how only dumb people got the cold during summer as he tucked him in with countless blankets and waited for him to fall asleep and he wasn’t exactly sure if it was the same kind of worry or not but Wooyoung deep down, very deep down wished it was Seonghwa anyways but-</p><p>He was fairly certain there was no concrete reason why Seonghwa had been blatantly, totally avoiding Wooyoung in the form of occasional unanswered calls and apologetic texts that did not discourse much of why he was not able to answer and it left an icky feeling in Wooyoung’s chest. He was going to have to pay him a visit sometime, probably, to understand what was going on and if he was so over the top that last time they had a drink together that he hated him now.</p><p>“So, about the expense reports of January-” Wooyoung picked up between his dozen thoughts and wanted to chop his own head off not to be there at all as he pretended to take notes and he dozed off to an open eye sleep. He was so not in the mood for rich people’s rich talk about money, earned from total deception of masses of the same nature, all swimming in money and blind as a bat. He was tired, the entirety of his limbs pulsed with irritation and he wanted to go home to just lay on the floor and expect death.</p><p>The door beside where he was standing since the meeting started draining his soul snapped open and almost hit him across the face mid-sentence, interrupting his silent whining efficiently. The meeting room was swallowed into a heavy silence as heads snapped in his direction, distressed. Wooyoung blinked once and turned his neck, saw Yunho standing at the glass door, his eyes fuming but his face the usual emotionless one.</p><p>“Now, now…” Yunho’s infuriated gaze landed on every single pair of confused eyes. Wooyoung could feel the guilt suspended in the air but was not sure of the reason. “How are you going to talk about company expenses without your CFO?”</p><p>He wasn’t sure why his immediate response was to check up on San, just to see him stare back with worry etched all over his face.</p><p>“Jeong Yunho-ssi.” The senior director warned, his old voice low and smug as he invaded the chair at the very top of the large meeting table. “I believe you’re late.”</p><p>“<em>Director</em>,” Yunho emphasized, eyes threatening. “I’m afraid I wasn’t even informed we would be holding a meeting today.”</p><p>“You <em>weren’t?</em>” Kim-ssi meddled from his place beside the meeting board. The fake confusion in his voice almost made Wooyoung scoff. “I’m sure the meeting invitation was sent to every staff of concern.”</p><p>“It seems I, the CFO of this company, am not a staff of concern, then.”</p><p>Another moment of silence thickened the air travelling into Wooyoung’s lungs invasively. He glanced at San once more, the uneasiness in his chest did not dissolve into anything when he saw him looking around in complete confusion.</p><p>“Obviously there has been a misunderstanding, Chief Jeong.” Yoo Kwan said as she fidgeted in her seat in unsettlement. “One of the assistants must’ve confused the line of conversation.”</p><p>Wooyoung could feel the panic arise off the assistants standing beside him in a weird hierarchic line. Yoo Kwan landed her gaze on the poor assistants one by one as they cowered under it. “Who is responsible for this awful misunderstanding?”</p><p>The silence was dizzying with the tension lingering on every passing second and Wooyoung felt every single invisible needle prick his delicate skin in the form of Yoo Kwan’s daunting gaze.</p><p>“Who sent out the emails?” Kim-ssi said with a very fake anger as he looked through the assistants until his eyes landed on at the end of the line Wooyoung when the suffocation was unfruitful and almost all of the other assistants avoided the eye contact.</p><p>“Jung Wooyoung?”</p><p>Wooyoung meekly turned his head towards the man that challenged him to dare and oppose, let a small sigh expand his chest for another second and opened his mouth to admit to the false claim but-</p><p>“Wooyoung was with me the whole time, it cannot be him.” San intervened firmly, an irritated scowl angling his brows. Every single head turned towards San in a split second like he had just committed the biggest crime. Wooyoung felt the breath get caught in his throat and his skin burn like it was scalding as Kim-ssi almost couldn’t hide his crude glare.</p><p>“Manager Choi, it is still possible that Jung Wooyoung messed up the conversation lines since he is the assistant responsible for preparing the lists.”</p><p>“No.” San emphasized, daring and stern. “Wooyoung is my personal assistant, Kim-ssi. I think you are deeply mistaken since he doesn’t even do office work anymore.”</p><p>Some mean-looking lady that Wooyoung couldn’t be bothered to learn the name of at the other side of the table was glaring at San over her triangle-shaped glasses. “I believe he is <em>temporarily</em> your assistant, <em>manager</em>.”</p><p>“As you said, <em>manager</em>, he is my assistant for <em>now</em> and we have been riding a very busy schedule. Giving him this task, on top of his assistant duties, I would consider it as a poor call.  I am sure there are plenty of other assistants in the office who were available.”</p><p>
  <em>Go Sanie. </em>
</p><p>“He is expected to keep on track with his business here, in the office, too. Considering he would like to keep his job after you are done with your activities.” Mean lady continued, shifting her stare towards Wooyoung with her smile bitchy and very subtle. Wooyoung could see San’s face pale at the blatant threat and felt a pang in his stomach. “And whose fault exactly is that he happened to be <em>so </em>busy?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked, looked around with a chest so heavy it almost felt worse than his aching skin as everyone in the room directed their eyes full of malice and breathed poison in the form of whispers, all aimed at Choi San and Wooyoung felt his limbs lock into place in a panic. He couldn’t let it, he couldn’t let San be unsafe, especially because of him when it was for such a trivial thing but he knew how people were, he knew how evil they could get when one didn’t obey and was sticking like a sore thumb and he wasn’t going to let San experience it when he was so pure and sweet and wouldn’t dare hurt anyone-</p><p>“It doesn’t matter-” He could hear Yunho sigh out an exasperated breath and he <em>couldn’t</em>-</p><p>“It’s my fault.”</p><p>The malice-filled heads gave up on their prey and found a new one as the voice Wooyoung couldn’t even recognize as his own sharply cut their hunt in half. Wooyoung slowly looked around the room, sensed the dismay surrounded by the expectancy, almost lost in the sea of malice now directed at him and somehow felt like he could breathe again.</p><p>“I messed up the lists, I mean I must’ve.” He said with regained composure, ignoring San’s eyes boring into him in alarm. “I prepared them for the meeting, I must’ve missed Chief Jeong’s entry this time.” He bowed slightly, felt the act oddly smooth on his body. “I deeply apologize.” He could hear Yunho sigh beside him as he turned towards him to bow once more, just for the sake of formality. “I apologize.”</p><p>“Whatever.” Yunho took a step in, shut the glass door behind him, the stern scowl to his brows not wavering but accompanied by newly added annoyance as he walked towards the seat Kim-ssi was occupying, pushed his belonging to the side, crossed his legs and made himself comfortable. “Please proceed with the meeting, let’s not have stupid mistakes like this steal our valuable time.” He waved away, completely ignoring Kim-ssi’s purple face.</p><p> </p><p>“Jung Wooyoung,” Yunho called out after another 45 minutes of dreadful discussion and as everyone was finally leaving. Wooyoung almost let out a snicker at his profound CFO façade as he said, “Come to my room.”</p><p>And it was fine. This was fine as countless heads turned towards him to glare for no particular reason other than silent judgment, at his dour demeanor and mysterious background and he was fine with it. He was used to it. People being immature bullies like they were some kids wasn’t something he already wasn’t facing as an office assistant, he would much rather have it stay that way than let San be the target of it.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what the voice at the back of his head would say to his reasoning, but Choi San himself obviously did not love the idea.</p><p>“Wooyoung.” He called out silently as they were one of the last people that left the meeting room, looked around as Wooyoung did not stop his walk towards the familiar stairway leading to the floor Yunho’s room was in with a dismissive <em>what</em>. “Wooyoung-ah!” He tried again, this time held Wooyoung’s blazer to immediately let it go in complete guilt when Wooyoung stopped and turned around to see his face scrunched up in a concoction of worry, panic, and annoyance.</p><p>“Yes, manager?”</p><p>San frowned even deeper. “Why did you do that, it wasn’t your fault in the slightest.”</p><p>Wooyoung looked at him, the way he tried to look angry but the only emotion his eyes could hold was immense worry and could not even get angry at the way his arm was pricked with invisible needles under his shirt.</p><p>“It’s fine. Do you have any idea what I’ve put up with before becoming your assistant?” He said with an eye-roll and continued his trek to climb the first few stairs. “I am used to it.”</p><p>“Then stop being used to it!” San’s voice was impatient as it suppressed the white noise of the office for a heartbeat. “You can’t just be the punching bag of random people, okay, I can’t let it happen.”</p><p>He wasn’t sure what the voice at the back of his mind would say but Wooyoung felt his skin buzz with a feeling he was not sure he felt before.</p><p>“It’s fine.” He said when he stepped down the gap between them slowly, voice as soft as he could muster not to aggravate the man seconds away from throwing a tantrum further. “San-ah, it’s fine.”</p><p>“Is it?” San whispered, scared and Wooyoung didn’t comprehend the reason behind why he was so distressed but smiled anyways. “I’m telling you it is.”</p><p>“Fine then, but walk out if he tries something weird, okay?”</p><p>Wooyoung struggled to hold his giggle. “I will.”</p><p>“And if he goes too far with scolding, just leave, I will wait outside.”</p><p>“Okay.” The giggle escaped as a breath out his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Yunho, obviously as a CFO, got himself an entire wing of the floor. It wasn’t that he was using all of it, even though his room was obnoxiously big to Wooyoung’s liking, but it was more of a <em>power play </em>as Yunho explained to him way before, when he first joined the company. Wooyoung was pretty sure power play wasn’t the right words but Yunho begged to differ.</p><p>He didn’t spare a single glance to all the people surrounding the floor and acted like they weren’t here, especially that assistant of Yunho’s. A very nosey woman who kept looking through their business… He could sense that she was about to say something when he reached to the big, winged door and pushed it without even knocking on it or anything.</p><p>He has met with huge-ass windows that seemed to be letting all the synthetic sunlight in, Yunho never bothered to fold down the blinds. He was sitting at his table already, looking at something on his laptop with a frown on his face. Then he looked up and gave him a tiny smile.</p><p>“Are you gonna scold me?” Wooyoung asked in a suggestive tone as he sat down on the chair in front of the table. But apparently, Yunho wasn’t sharing his amusement about the situation. He closed the laptop with a sigh and slouched back on his chair.</p><p>“I probably should have, you know, in front of everyone, give them a show… Poor, helpless office assistant getting framed and this joke of a CFO buying it all...”</p><p>He sounded somewhere between being petty and also sad which was odd for him. He wouldn’t let them get him normally.</p><p>“Hmm, yeah. Bet they would enjoy it but—what is up with that? I don’t know who <em>really</em> was responsible because others ran around like chickens after the meeting, I couldn’t tell.”</p><p>“No one is responsible,” Yunho said like it was the most obvious thing. “At least none of the assistant, probably. They didn’t invite me deliberately Wooyoung-ah.”</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t really care nor understand the office hierarchy or whatever, but this sounded bad. It was true that some people in the company secretly didn’t like Yunho just because he came out of nowhere and Hongjoong gave him almost all the companies his family own, to manage. Wooyoung wasn’t sure why becoming a CFO in this company would benefit them, other than Yunho acting like his <em>secret </em>guardian angel from time to time.</p><p>Hongjoong’ s family was very loaded, one of the oldest families inside the wall and they owned basically everything at some point. Though the last four decades or so, they were mainly known for the artificial climate stuff inside the walls. But ever since his father died and Hongjoong took over everything, he tried to get his hands on almost everything, since running an illegal, little club for smuggling people in needed many resources. That’s why he handed over all the general public appearances to Yunho, and that’s why people didn’t like Yunho. And also, because he dyed his hair, and that they cannot really explain his relationship with Hongjoong.</p><p>“Why would they do that?” he asked, partly afraid of the answer he will get. Because any inconvenience meant that he cannot maintain his life the way he got used to and nowadays there were just too many things he didn’t want to let go of just like that.</p><p>“That old hag,” Yunho spat out meaning the director person who initiated the meeting. “He wants my job ever since forever and now he’s getting in board members’ heads too. Clearly, it works. It has been like that for a while but today was his biggest scheme yet. But I have good connections myself so…  I hope he died inside when I walked in.”</p><p>“I can give you info if you want,” Wooyoung offered, even though it would be the most careless thing. Yunho seemed to think so too.</p><p>“You already draw too much attention on yourself with your manager. We shouldn’t risk any more than that.”</p><p>“Speaking of my manager— you scared the shit out of him. Maybe next time try to look less angry when you ask me to come to your room.”</p><p>“Why would you care what he thinks? Last time when you were in this room you were gonna quit if I remember correctly?” Yunho asked slyly and all Wooyoung could do was getting flustered a bit because <em>why would he care?</em></p><p>He decided to ignore the question and half successfully changed the topic with a: “Did you wanna talk about anything other than how hags of the board are bullying you?” which made Yunho scoff at him.</p><p>“Yeah actually, I’ve been meaning to check up on you considering how last time went. But then I had to deal with this <em>situation</em> so…”</p><p>The last time being the semi-fight they had ending with Yunho successfully getting under his skin with his preaching about family and Wooyoung leaving the house just like that because he didn’t like confrontation that much to begin with.</p><p>“So, I wanted to apologize,” Yunho spoke each word like he was swallowing rocks at the same time. Wooyoung always found it amazing how Yunho had the emotional capacity of a toddler sometimes. “And, I am sorry, you know, for saying those things.”</p><p>“Wow,” Wooyoung exclaimed in a fake manner. “What did Hongjoong hyung offer you for this?”</p><p>“Shut up and accept the apology before I take it back.”</p><p>“Oh my god, this is the best apology I have ever received. I’m so shocked right now, <em>emotionally, </em>that I don’t even know how to react, wow.” Wooyoung continued with his fake mannerism again which Yunho responded with a roll of his eyes.</p><p>“Anyways, I hope hyung is still not considering bringing her in, because I’m doing just fine. I sent her money and all, told her to not call me from the old number and that they’ve been watching me so I cannot give her my new one but I will be sending monthly again. And I heard nothing so, that’s a good sign. She knows not to danger my business here sometimes, I guess. So, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Tell hyung that. And prevent him from doing stupid acts.”</p><p>“You know I can’t,” Yunho said with heart eyes, not towards him but his soulmate back at probably their shared mansion (or the secret house, Wooyoung didn’t know or care), which was gross to Wooyoung because no need to get all lovey-dovey about it, <em>why romanticize soulmates anyways?</em></p><p>“Well, then if this is all, I’m gonna go before people start to think you are murdering me here, should I look sad?”</p><p>Yunho thought about it for a bit before answering. “No, in fact, look happy. Then ask one of the people in front to call Kim Jungwoo here, maybe I fire him today.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wooyoung stepped outside to close the door behind himself, deep in thoughts until he realized San staring into nothingness leaning against the wall.</p><p>“Did you really wait?” An amused smile forced his lips upwards as he walked up to San and disappeared just as soon when San’s head snapped towards him, eyes distressed until they recognized the owner of the voice. Wooyoung closed the remaining gap between them in a heartbeat, bending his knees to level himself with San’s unfocused gaze.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I-” San started, then stopped, looked right into Wooyoung’s eyes and Wooyoung knew exactly what the dilated pupils and the tiny bit of sweat at his roots meant. He had seen it, witnessed it; the small, distorted tissue over his right brow, painfully sunken and still pink and tender, was the remnant of that messy day.</p><p>“Did someone tell you something?” Wooyoung frowned, his hand hovered over each side of San’s face but did not dare touch. “Was it someone from the meeting? Did they threaten you?”</p><p>“No!” San’s brows pinched in worry, breath slightly shallow as his chest heaved for more of it. “No, I just- I was worried and- and it just started…” He gulped down slowly, lowered his guilty eyes. “I’m sorry…”</p><p>Something squeezed Wooyoung’s palpitating heart until it felt suffocating. Wooyoung looked around, the hallway was vacant minus one assistant subtly staring at them as she passed by.</p><p>“Let’s get you home, okay?” He shielded San from her vulturous eyes.</p><p>“But- Work?” San asked, holding Wooyoung’s arm mostly as an anchor of reality more than anything.</p><p>“You don’t have to be in the office, the meeting is done anyways.” Wooyoung looked around once more, watched the busy feet take people around at the very end of the hallway and completely disregarded the way his arm felt like it was being chopped into cubes at the contact. San hummed distractedly as he stared somewhere past Wooyoung’s shoulder.</p><p>“Come on, let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, I think sunflowers abandoned me.” San chirped as Wooyoung dragged him from his wrist and San dragged his feet on the ground like he was a three-year-old with underdeveloped motor skills.</p><p>“Did they?” Wooyoung checked if there was anyone else in the parking lot as they snaked between the lifeless metal piles, saw it void of any human other than the two of them, thanks to working hours.</p><p>“Not really, but why are they not there when I’m looking at you?”</p><p>Only when San’s car was a couple of others away, Wooyoung could expand his lungs with a breath of relief. Sure, his whole hand where he dragged San across the parking lot pulsed red and angry, but he was in too much distress to pay his suffering any heed.</p><p>A voice different from the one that always talked some sense into him questioned why the fuck did he care so much about Choi San being outed as a daydreaming freak, but he swatted the thought away for the sake of practicality.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, these are cars, right?”</p><p>Wooyoung sighed. “They are.”</p><p>“Do you think my car is covered in flowers too?”</p><p>A breathed a laugh out his nose. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” </p><p>“Are we going to my car?” San’s voice was lively with excitement.</p><p>“Yes, you’re going home.”</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>There it was, at the very corner beside another car Wooyoung had never seen before, perfectly placed inside the parking space, San’s black car, squeaky clean and shining under the dim light. Wooyoung was sure it looked like the best car in the whole universe at this exact moment.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah~” San whined behind him, still being dragged until they were practically beside the holy vehicle of facilitation.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, what about you~” San whined further, his pout basically reflecting on his voice and Wooyoung sighed for the thousandth time in half an hour.</p><p>“I still have things to do here, so go home, take your pills and then sleep, deal?”</p><p>San stopped. Wooyoung gave his sleeve an experimental tug as he looked for the car keys in his pockets, but it did not budge.</p><p>“What now-” He turned his head, distracted until he saw San’s eyes boring into his.</p><p>“I don’t want to.” A car passed by the main vein in the whole lot, its engine echoing off the tall grey walls. Wooyoung blinked, protectively firmed his grasp on San’s jacket, his skin buzzing in protest.</p><p>“San-ah, you can’t just-”</p><p>“I don’t want to.” San opposed, expression hard enough it almost made goosebumps rise over Wooyoung’s skin if he could currently feel it. “I won’t go home alone.”</p><p>“San, I still have things to do in the office, I can’t just leave.”</p><p>“But everything is covered in flowers.” A frown pinched San’s face inward, eyes once again unfocused. “It’s sickening, the smell and the sight of it just-”</p><p>Wooyoung jumped slightly at a car door smacking closed, the noise magnifying with the echo, looked around to see if anyone could watch their misery. “I understand, I promise, just please go home and-”</p><p>“I can’t!” San shook his arm free. Wooyoung's fingers pulsed with the sharp pain for a split second, then buzzed uncomfortably for the remainder.</p><p>“I need you.” He whispered, tone high with desperation and dismay. “The driver will come here and he will be covered head to toe with flowers and I will start giggling all the way to house and maybe even after that, but you-”</p><p>He stepped in, once, twice, raised his hand slowly and <em>what</em>, it was closer and closer to Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung stepped back in response, trembling eyes following the hand as he tried and escaped it until the back of his knees hit the car behind him and he couldn’t anymore. San took another step in, Wooyoung could feel his ragged breath over his aching skin and hand on his chin, cocked up to meet the eyes of the man only about an inch taller than him.</p><p>“Wha-”</p><p>“My clarity,” San whispered, eyes lidded in something Wooyoung could not read but it was intense enough to make his breath hitch.</p><p>“San-ah-”</p><p>“Among the sickening flower field…” A shiver ran up Wooyoung’s spine implacably, San’s thumb brushed over his plump bottom lip, tender and soft. “Why are you my clarity?”</p><p>And Wooyoung would’ve thought of a coherent persuasion about sending San home and going back to his tasks in hand so he could be done and go home quickly to sleep forever and eat all the snacks in his cabinet simply because it has been too stressful of a day, but all he could think of was <em>okay,</em> <em>San is literally in front of your face right now and his breath is warm and he smells really nice even though you’ve been together all this time, you never realized? You even know his perfume brand, you know he uses only 3 sprays and it feels this dizzying? Sickness. Ah, great now your whole body is sweaty and disgusting and Choi San is literally right in front of your face-</em></p><p>“Okay!” He almost yelled, freed himself off San’s fingers in panic scorching hot inside his veins. His breath struggled to catch up with his heart thumping against his sternum. “I’ll come with you, tuck you in bed then return here.” San opened his mouth to oppose but Wooyoung raised his finger sternly, scowling. “No. This is the best you’re getting so don’t even bother.”</p><p>San pouted in silent protest, at the void that was the parking lot.</p><p> </p><p>“Hyung.” Wooyoung whined into the line as he stuffed handful of chips into his mouth. “Be honest, am I dying?”</p><p>“Yes, if you keep eating those chips.”</p><p><em>Incorrect</em>, Wooyoung thought. His high maintenance metabolism would never let him die from something like that.</p><p>“Hyung, but then where the fuck did all my reasoning go?” He rolled on the floor and winced at the sting when his back hit an empty chocolate box. “I’m like I switched brains with someone and now can’t think about anything else but Choi San. What Choi San did when he woke up, did he eat breakfast, does he have enough blankets over himself at night, did he fall off his bed-”</p><p>“Does he fall off his bed often?”</p><p>Wooyoung snickered. “Oh, he fell once, and his head was all-” He stopped, frowned when he realized he was enjoying the memory. “Hyung! You’re supposed to be my reasoning because mine is gone and I hate you with a passion but I literally have no one else to talk to right now, okay?!”</p><p>“But what happened to Seonghwa? Did you fight?”</p><p>Wooyoung stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth instead of answering, just to avoid his problems for 5 more seconds.</p><p>“Okay, but, Wooyoung-ah.” Hongjoong’s voice was serious. “Did it hurt when he touched you?”</p><p>Wooyoung let out an exasperated, potato chip-smelling sigh and stared at his greasy hand reached up towards his boring ceiling. He didn’t know. He was freaking out so bad and feeling so many things at once that he had no idea if it actually hurt.</p><p>“Of course it did.” He answered, fake confidence dripping off his voice. “Not every guy I slightly catch feelings for is my soulmate, hyung, give it up.”</p><p>“So you do admit you caught feelings for Choi Sa-”</p><p>Wooyoung hung up.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. my love is dahlia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter starts with a scene that might come off as mildly dubious consent, so proceed with caution &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was hot.</p><p>It was <em>hot</em>, all over his body, his back, his thighs, especially his face, it felt suffocating. His chest heaved for breath and his hands yearned for more to touch, a warm and fuzzy feeling itching at his core. It was dark but white spots were flickering at the back of his eyelids, just like the lights over his head only a few hours ago, hot and bright.</p><p>Wooyoung wasn’t really sure how it came to be this <em>excruciatingly </em>hot, he remembered the anger running through his veins, loud music, and people, <em>so many</em> people, just chatting and socializing but Wooyoung knew none of them. He remembered going for the bar setting inside the area, ordering a shit ton of vodka and-</p><p>Fuck, didn’t he just recently decide to never drink again? Fuck, it was always the same. Wooyoung drank; to have fun, to relax, to run away from his insistent pain for a couple of hours and feel like a normal human being again, he just did and it worked, it worked so well but then-</p><p>Why did he drink this time? Why was he so mad?</p><p>He recalled the day, what it meant. It was Sora’s birthday party.</p><p><em>Makes sense how you got so mad</em>, something in his brain mocked, but no, that couldn’t be the reason to get blackout drunk. He knew that was the schedule for the day for a while anyways.</p><p>The flashy birthday ornaments dangled above his head at the plaza they rented out months ago for perfect accuracy in schedule, he had helped Sora’s manager out for the whole arrangement, the decorations, the food, music, even some dancers for a pinch of extra, and while it was unbearable, it wasn’t to the point he would get so aggravated about it.</p><p>Even San’s gift for Sora was to be planned out, since they had a match rate of 97 percent, of course, the gift had to be perfect too. Though Wooyoung was not forced to participate in that part of the plan.</p><p><em>Ah</em>, he mentally sighed, felt shaky breaths over his own lips, but they weren’t his own. <em>The fucking gift. </em></p><p>Now, Wooyoung loved himself some money, a good amount of money and if he has some left off his leech of a sister, he would prefer some rather expensive suit, and some nice tie to go with it, which meant all black most of the time but then again the fabric absolutely mattered. He wasn’t after the luxurious lifestyle the people of this wall seemed to have, he was fine with getting by and looking fine, so he really wouldn’t consider himself a materialistic bastard, but-</p><p>Wooyoung felt a pair of hands wrap around his waist and the sting of it was almost majestic, which was very confusing for his intoxicated brain.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah-” A whisper reached his eardrums, the breath confused and hasty as it panned his cheek for a second but Wooyoung was enraged.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Choi San.” He said, breathless, hot and bothered as he pressed their lips once more, his hands cupping San’s face tenderly as opposed to their teeth clashing.</p><p>San did.</p><p>The morning of that day, when he was dreading the whole day knowing how the whole ordeal would feel pretentious and phony, how he would want to run away and get lost and out of sight instead of watching Kang Sora fake smile at the cameras, he didn’t think any of it would actually feel genuine.</p><p>He really didn’t think when he was told they were going to drop by another location before where the event will be held, that the location was going to be San’s birthday gift for Sora.</p><p>And he didn’t care, why would he care about a fake surprise that consisted of Sora, San, both of their assistants and a few other staff, a complete set up event of Choi San gifting a whole mansion for his lovely fiancé as a gift for her special birthday, because it was all fake.</p><p>But it wasn’t fake when Sora jumped over to wrap her arms around San’s shoulders with the first genuine smile of her life spreading over her cheeks, squeaking a “<em>Choi San, you finally did something useful!</em>” and it wasn’t fake when San released a partly baffled laugh and wrapped his arms around her waist.</p><p>“Did you kiss Sora like this?” He whispered against San’s lips red and swollen as he pressed over the bottom one to watch it plump on the other side, waiting to be devoured and for him only. Only him.</p><p>“Wha- what-” San’s breathe stuttered. Wooyoung swallowed the hiss escaping his lips when he shifted his hips over him, the aligned tents of their pants brushing slightly.</p><p>“Stop talking.”</p><p>San’s breath was caught in his throat, the bulge over his throat moved up and down slowly. “Wooyoung-ah, we-”</p><p>“I said stop,” Wooyoung grunted, grasped San’s chiseled chin in his palm and kissed, goosebumps dancing over his skin as his hips moved restlessly, out of rhythm, sending all kinds of shudders throughout his entire spine in divine waves, a hesitant hand resting at the small of his back and one at his waist.</p><p>Even at the fucking birthday, as everyone and anyone that was invited and showed up with too fancy clothes for anyone’s liking wished Sora happy birthday and asked about the wedding date, it was supposed to be fake and ostentatious. And their arms linked together as they walked around the extravagant venue was probably just that, but Wooyoung knew their smiles were as legitimate as it could be.</p><p><em>How dare you</em>, Wooyoung’s mind echoed as he pressed the bulge of his dick now so hard it was painful, swallowed the high whine strained out of San’s throat and felt his own breath tremble at the heat pooling at his groin.</p><p>It was <em>so hot</em>, unbearably, undeniably hot and it almost felt underwater, his breath catching in his burning lungs but Wooyoung had never felt so good in his miserable life.</p><p>“Mine…” He growled, pulled at San’s midnight black hair so the stars on his neck could be exposed, only for him, eliciting an adorable gasp between San’s parted lips. The stars and the whines and the stolen breath as he bucked his hips against the tent now visibly higher on San’s pants, it was all his and for no one else.</p><p>“What-” San moaned lowly when Wooyoung’s lips travelled down to the stars and Wooyoung wondered if it would feel like brown sugar if he licked a tiny strip up to where his chin curved out. It felt like sweat and skin, but he did not complain.</p><p>“Wooyoung, wait-”</p><p>Wooyoung pressed down harder the next time their hips met and felt countless tremors up his spine that had to be muffled by burying his face against the stars. It felt hot, too hot and his dick ached to release inside his pants and probably ruin one of his finite amount of good clothes, the heat built up and blood rushed down to his crouch with every new brush and press of their cocks together, tiny mewls leaving his lips against the heated skin of San’s neck now that he was so close but-</p><p>“Wooyoung, stop.” San said, voice still shaky but his frown making up for the determination he was going for as he literally peeled Wooyoung off his lap. Wooyoung frowned back, mind hazy with his high was too close and also too out of reach, tried to buck his hips down and find the relieving friction once more, frustration swelling up in his chest. San raised him even higher, the skin of his face red as a tomato.</p><p>“Stop, you’re drunk off your mind.”</p><p>“I’m not~” Wooyoung whined, too high pitched with grabby hands and San licked his swollen lips with a sigh.</p><p>“You are. We can’t do this.”</p><p>“Oh my god.” Wooyoung groaned when San lifted him up in his arms koala style, experimented with another glide of their aligned dicks and San instead threw him over his shoulder and started walking across the living room.</p><p>“I said stop.” He mimicked.</p><p>“I’m gonna bite your tiny ass off if you don’t let me down.”</p><p>“Try me.”</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t try. Upside down journey of San carrying him to the only room downstairs San’s flat was too nauseating to try anything.</p><p>“Stay there and sleep.” San instructed when he plopped Wooyoung’s body on the bed, his limbs flaccid, stomach burning and churning uncomfortably, erection neglected. “You’re too drunk for anything right now.”</p><p>And Wooyoung had to agree when he left him like that on the once tidy bed and shut the door over him, moves hasty with urgency as he flicked the light off just before.</p><p> </p><p>San took a breath so deep his lungs burned with it for a couple of seconds.</p><p>The morning sun beamed through the white sheets over the large window and San could almost feel them over his heated skin, behind his eyelids that he was afraid of shutting off and also craved a couple of minutes of sleep desperately.</p><p>The morning was serene and pretty as winter breeze brushed over his face, but it simultaneously felt numb with the hell of a cacophony inside his brain.</p><p>He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, why Wooyoung did -<em>all of that</em>- and why he said the things he said and why he was-</p><p><em>God</em>, he could feel his erection through the pants and-</p><p><em>No, not again</em>, he sent a silent plea to the sky and to his own dick that cost him a whole night when it combined with the confusion his whole body was wrecked with. His morality kicked in and he couldn’t proceed with anything past <em>that</em>, sure, but fuck, was it simply magical, after all that time-</p><p><em>Shut up, Choi San</em>, he scolded and silently reminded himself that he had a fiancé now, whom he very much left at her own birthday party, but to his own defense, she was literally nowhere to be found after some point at the party. And normally San would go looking for her, because, it’s her very special day, and as mentioned before, he was her fiancé and even gifted her a huge house in the morning, not that it was his own idea, but <em>one assistant of his</em> was blackout drunk and he was too nice to just leave him alone like that. Or maybe he could, under normal conditions, but yesterday, his mind didn’t even give him another option but to drag Wooyoung to the safety of his house and make sure nothing posed a threat to him.</p><p>It was probably a stupid way to think that Wooyoung would need his assistance in things, or would require protection under slightly dangerous circumstances, but knowing his condition and how he mostly likely possibly almost certainly hurts all the time, there was no way San would consider another option anyways.</p><p>Then again, he never thought the first option would lead them the way the night ended.</p><p>Wooyoung was apparently a clingy drunk, like, <em>a lot</em>, but San <em>really</em> didn’t think the night would end up that way.</p><p>Considering he didn’t have a fiancé probably wondering where the hell he just disappeared to just like San also worried his bottom lip thinking about, Wooyoung was his assistant a<em>nd</em> was a man. Double reasons to get things spicy and get crucified by the general public, simultaneously, including everyone they knew in real life. Especially his mom, since if she were to ever discover their very gay endeavor, Wooyoung wouldn’t really be getting away with just a very fat check, but maybe a cut off dick shoved in his front pocket, who knows.</p><p>San definitely would.</p><p>The whole situation was icky, besides sleeping with a hard-on really wasn’t the thing he thought he’d be doing that night. He even dared to think he might be spending it with Sora judging by how yesterday started, but then he barely saw her and after finding Wooyoung alone, and drinking at some corner by himself, he barely even thought about her. He wasn’t sure to feel less or more guilty about it.</p><p>He let out a frustrated groan, rolled over on his bed and out of the bedsheets to find his door. He wasn’t sure what the clock read, but he figured it was most likely about 9 or 10 and time to finally wake up Wooyoung, after going through a whole night worth of waiting and eyes probably bloodshot and dry, not even a second of sleep provided to their service. His first steps felt achy and awkward, he almost tripped with the haze lack of sleep caused over his brain and logical thinking, he wondered if the closer he was to face Wooyoung meant the sooner his mind would reach clarity.</p><p>Fuck if that was true.</p><p>He figured he should feed Byeol before anything else, since the poor girl was probably starving and scarred with the scenery of last night, hence the cuddles San gave her after she was done eating her whole cup. Totally not stalling to see if Wooyoung would emerge from the room by himself.</p><p>Wooyoung, in the meantime, did not.</p><p>San sighed as he prepared a tray of some breakfast he slapped together in distress, stood a glass of water, and placed a couple of pills on the tray and feather walked to the door of the room, still tightly shut with silence.</p><p>He worried his bottom lip slightly, almost drawing blood when the remnant feeling of the plush lips over his invaded his tired mind for a second, so he had to clear his throat prior to knocking on the door.</p><p>“Come in.” was not delayed but was as tired as his whole body felt. Balancing the tray on one hand, he carefully did.</p><p>Wooyoung was splayed out in the center of the bed all starfish, staring at the ceiling with hooded, tired eyes. He laid the tray beside the bed, drew the curtains to spare them both off some irritable brightness until he finally asked.</p><p>“How are you feeling?”</p><p>San wished he could also save himself some heart attack as Byeol peeked through the door, decided it was too tense for her and gracefully left.</p><p>“Like I’m brought back from dead thrice.”</p><p>San gulped down when it was suddenly harder to breathe. “I brought you some painkillers and food.” He said, offering the tray silently. Wooyoung removed the arm over his eyes blocking any possible light, his face reflecting the way he just said he felt like.</p><p>“That’s cute, but those don’t work for me.”</p><p>San’s embarrassed lips shaped a tiny “o” as he stared at the sad tray in his hands. <em>Of course they weren’t gonna work, if normal painkillers worked why would he be walking around in pain all time, dumbass Choi San. </em></p><p>“I’m sorry, I thought- I mean, I should’ve- Is there something I can do?”</p><p>“It’s okay, I’ll be okay enough to get up and leave shortly anyways.” Wooyoung groaned, obviously annoyed. “Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>San frowned. “I am not worried, but you shouldn’t be going anywhere. No offense, you <em>do</em> look like you’ve been brought back from dead thrice.”</p><p>Wooyoung didn’t even try to hide the roll of his eyes as he sat up with a grimace. “Great. Makes me feel amazing.”</p><p>Suddenly the tray was too heavy to hold in his hands anymore, so he once more placed it on the bedside table carefully. “No, I am only saying you don’t have to leave until you feel better. Not that you look bad or anything, just-”</p><p>“It’s okay <em>manager</em>.” Wooyoung pressed as he interrupted. “I know you don’t want to do anything with me anyways. Like I said, I will be gone in an hour so, don’t sweat it.”</p><p><em>O-oh</em>, San’s brain pathetically stuttered. He wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to deny the heck out of the harsh words spat at him. “What- do you mean by that?” His tongue also was tied pathetically.</p><p>“I meant last night.” Wooyoung deadpanned, the irritation evident in his voice as he stared right into San’s eyes. “It’s really okay though. Can’t say I enjoyed not finishing, but it’s not like I’m gonna force myself on people. Apparently that’s not how it works inside.”</p><p>A pause.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Wooyoung shifted uncomfortably, his face still somewhat in pain. “Nothing.”</p><p>A heavy, awkward silence fell over the both of them. San meekly stepped towards the very edge of the bed, plopped himself down, chest heavy and confusion strangling his last bit of peace of mind.</p><p>“Stop acting all shy.” Wooyoung sliced the silence in half after a moment, voice impatient. “We still have to work together even if you didn’t wanna get in my pants and it’s not like I can tell anyone about this so maybe don’t-”</p><p>“Why do you keep thinking I didn’t want it?” San interrupted. When his uncomfortably wandering eyes found Wooyoung, he slowly blinked.</p><p>“Because-” He started, then frowned in plain confusion. “Because you left me all hard and shit. Peeled me off yourself and didn’t even tuck me in.”</p><p>“How do you remember all that when you were blackout drunk?”</p><p>“I wasn’t blackout drunk.” Wooyoung stopped and considered. “Well, I was drunk for sure, but I don’t blackout, at all.”</p><p>“I stopped you because you were too drunk to be making any decisions, and I didn’t want you to make one like that all blacked out.” A stray sunray shined through the conjunction of two curtains, shined over the white wooden desk. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want it…” He mumbled, a flush spreading down to his neck. “It was because I wanted it too much.”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked. “Then why did you leave me hard, it hurt.”</p><p>“I-” San gaped like a goldfish. “Because you were drunk and I can’t just- when you’re not conscious, it’s not right-”</p><p>“But I was conscious!” Wooyoung waved his frustrated hand in the air.</p><p>“But you were too drunk!”</p><p>“It hurt like a bitch, what the fuck!”</p><p>“Wooyoung, I can’t just-”</p><p>“Look.” Wooyoung interrupted, impatiently squeezing his eyes for a second. “I’m not drunk now, so can we-”</p><p>Instead of blabbering any further, he reached out, grabbed a handful of San’s sleepwear t-shirt and pulled him into a hungry kiss. San didn’t know what he was expecting when Wooyoung messily crushed their mouths together, but it certainly wasn’t <em>that</em>. Sure, he knew and remembered what yesterday’s heated -to say the least- kiss felt like, how it <em>made</em> him feel like, but then again, he was tipsy and everything was fuzzy and warm and anything could’ve felt amazing to him at that point.</p><p>But this-</p><p>This was <em>heavenly</em>.</p><p>Sure, San had kissed a bunch of people in his chaotic life before, vast majority of the girls under this dome and a lot of, <em>a lot of</em> boys when he escaped to another dome for a couple of years and it was great, he loved kissing, it felt nice and giddy and all the good things.</p><p>But none of his kissing partners were compared to how warm Wooyoung’s lips felt over his own, how plump and soft they were, how the kiss made his stomach twist and churn like young love in a very uncomfortable but desirable way.</p><p>Wooyoung did not put his hands over his face this time and instead on his shoulders as he slowly climbed over to straddle his thighs, careful and calculated as opposed to how reckless and hungry last night’s kiss was. San found himself seeking for the touch, his heart picking up a pace at the reality hitting him like a ton of bricks at the sweet weight on his lap.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah-” His vocal cords betrayed him, only an airy whisper leaving his buzzing lips.</p><p>Wooyoung shushed him, lips brushing against each other, breaths colliding in between. “Do you not want it?”</p><p>“No.” San said when his stomach dropped at even the possibility of all this disappearing even for a second. “I mean- Yes. No. Just-” He gulped.</p><p>Wooyoung’s plump lips stretched into a lazy smile. “I hate it when you act cute.”</p><p>San felt his breath hitch because fuck, <em>fuck</em>, he was the prettiest thing San had ever laid his eyes on.</p><p>All doubt, all fear left his poor infatuated mind as he pulled Wooyoung down to glide the tip of his tongue over Wooyoung’s plump lips to then flush them together in a slow and gentle kiss and almost couldn’t hold the pathetic moan at the back of his throat when he felt Wooyoung smile against him. Fuck, <em>fuck, fuck, fuck</em>-</p><p>“I want it.” He whispered when his head was spinning and the edges of his vision blurred the tiniest bit, both of their chests heaving for breaths.</p><p>“I know,” Wooyoung said, just before the smile disappeared to be replaced by a deep grimace that shook his body on top of San. A small gasp left his red and swollen lips, he buried his face deep into San’s neck. San’s eyes widened in panic.</p><p>“Wha- What’s wrong?” He stuttered, wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s frail body faintly shaking, then unwrapped them in uncertainty.</p><p>“Just-” Wooyoung wheezed, his hand holding the fabric of San’s t-shirt like his life depended on it. “Nothing, just-”</p><p>“Is it an attack?” San felt his voice crack in a haste.</p><p>“It’s not but-” A whine interrupted Wooyoung as he cringed into himself. “It’s not, but it might turn into one.”</p><p>His own breath aligned with Wooyoung’s pained panting, his eyes almost left their sockets in his perturbed and useless search of anything to help around the dim room. “Then- What should I do, what will help?”</p><p>“Just stay.” Wooyoung rasped, body going completely lax in San’s lap, his breath fanning the side of San’s neck as he panted and pained whines in his ears. “I just need- some time-”</p><p>San didn’t understand, but he stayed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hyung, you have no idea how much I needed a night like this.” Wooyoung sighed as he twirled the expensive red wine he smuggled on his way to Seonghwa’s house -not really but it was so expensive it almost felt like it-, his brain warm and fuzzy just enough but not too much so that he didn’t have his newly found drunk instincts. “I was gonna scream if I had to attend one more dress-up event.”</p><p>Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully but satisfied. His glass had only one more sip worthy of wine left, his plump lips were stained red with the amount he consumed. He was somehow hazy the whole evening of their periodic dinner dates, most likely because Wooyoung was not able to make time for him unlike how they do it every week religiously, letting a whole busy month slip in between the last time and tonight. He just had to reprimand his sins with some very expensive overworking-at-Kang-Sora’s-birthday party-money wine.</p><p>“Like even the last weekend was <em>you know whose </em>birthday party and I had to attend it for some reason.” He complained with a pout, tilting his glass only enough to soak his bottom lip in red. “I don’t know, all I cared was my extra time money to be honest, I guess the drinks were fine too.”</p><p>Seonghwa smiled softly. “Seems you had fun, then.”</p><p>“Well, not really. People were annoying, as usual.” He shrugged dismissively, his elbow leaning over the back of the couch. “Not to mention the blue balling situation at the end of the night-”</p><p>The soft tune of the melody resonating against the dimly lit walls was disturbed by Seonghwa literally choking on his drink.</p><p>“Situation of <em>what</em>?”</p><p>Wooyoung sighed overdramatically with an eyeroll. “Yeah, tell me about it. Like isn’t it a basic courtesy to finish what you started? Or these rich people just skip that part in their ethics classes…”</p><p>It took a moment and several gulps of bitter redness for Seonghwa to regain his composure.</p><p>“So- Uh…” He cleared his throat desperately. “Did you know who the person is or?..”</p><p>“Ah, yeah, it was Choi San.”</p><p>Seonghwa choked even harder this time.</p><p>“It was <em>who</em>?” His eyes almost popped out of their sockets.</p><p>“Yeah, I know, hyung.” Wooyoung widened his eyes, unbelieving. “Can you believe the person who took millions of soulmate tests, acting like the absolute straightest guy<sup>TM </sup> is also into guys?” He frowned to himself. “Though he did leave me like that so… but- Why are u looking at me like that?”</p><p>Seonghwa huffed, incredulous as he gaped. “Are you hearing yourself? This is <em>bad</em>, Wooyoung.”</p><p>“Wh- Why would it be bad?” Wooyoung shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “It’s not like he would tell anyone…”</p><p>A sigh suppressed the music for a few seconds, Seonghwa ran his hand up and down his face frustratedly. “But what did you do? I mean- How far?”</p><p>Wooyoung blinked. “Oh, we just- uh, kissed, a couple of times. Nothing happened.”</p><p>“Were you both drunk?”</p><p>“Well, he wasn’t, apparently. He stopped us the first time.”</p><p>“<em>The first time??”</em> Seonghwa almost jumped up, but stopped with a hand over his temple. Wooyoung wasn’t sure he ever saw him this pent up about anything before.</p><p>“Hyung it’s fine-”</p><p>“No. I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into Wooyoung.” He waved the hand on his temple before he reached out to place his glass safely on the coffee table so he didn’t knock its contents all over the couch. “That man is your boss, not to mention he has a fiancé and that he is getting married real soon. These people are dangerous. I thought you were smarter than that.”</p><p>The disappointment etched in Seonghwa’s voice and Wooyoung felt something drop in his stomach. He had no recollection of seeing him like this before, not when they were just getting to know each other and Wooyoung tended to disregard him often because his gut instinct told him not to trust anyone, not when he fucked up so bad that Seonghwa told him he was hurt but Wooyoung was too emotionally immature to understand the weight of his words.</p><p>Where did that self-protecting gut instinct go, he wondered. Wasn’t he being too careless, for days and weeks he wasn’t even able to count with his two hands anymore, where exactly did he stop caring, when exactly was he fine with a privileged prick like Choi San knowing so much about him, his life?</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, he thought, as his skin started burning needles.</p><p>“Look.” Seonghwa backed out when he realized the panic entrancing him. “I am not saying he would turn this into an issue, judging by what you told me about him he seems like a decent person, I don’t think you have to be scared.” A pause. “Do you trust him?”</p><p>Did he trust him? Choi San was a privileged prick who knew nothing and lived under a dome of lies and built off sufferings, so did he trust him?</p><p>He did. He knew he did trust him, oddly too much for someone he knew close to nothing about, but he couldn’t be mistaken that he trusted him when he learned about his nasty attacks, even looked after him until he was fine again, did not tell anyone minus the doctor he panic summoned but it was fine, he was fine ever since. Choi San probably knew about his fucked up nervous system, his constantly irritated skin, he knew all about it but did not open his mouth once.</p><p>It also did not mean Wooyoung was safe, though the lips over his own the other day momentarily made him feel otherwise.</p><p>“It really doesn’t matter if he is cool with it or whether he’s going to shut up about it.” Seonghwa sighed, troubled. “What happened was wrong in so many levels Wooyoung-ah. And I hope it was a one-time thing.”</p><p>Technically it already wasn’t a onetime thing, the morning still bright and warm at the back of his mind, how his preattack/overwhelmed nerves betrayed him in between their kiss, how San took care of him so nicely and made sure Wooyoung was completely fine and comfortable before he even let him off the bed, how gentle and cautious he was as he tended to his needs and asked no questions. He asked no questions and still did everything in his ability to provide the best conditions for Wooyoung’s comfort. Maybe Wooyoung was free to trust him a little bit.</p><p>And honestly, Wooyoung would rather trust him if it meant he could feel the lips over his own, he could hear the cute moans vibrating through his chest, the flicker in his eyes as he said he wanted it-</p><p><em>What the fuck</em>, he internally slapped himself. <em>Choi San appreciation in broad daylight</em>.</p><p>“Did you talk about it or, just left it like that?” Another sigh helped him get himself distracted from his unreasonable thoughts when he was too caught up in them.</p><p>“We- Uh-” <em>No, we made out and declared that it was a mutual feeling that we wanted to suck each other’s faces.</em> “We didn’t.”</p><p>“You should.” Seonghwa was firm. “At least make sure that it’s a one-time thing and that there are things you cannot risk easily, unlike him.”</p><p>He was right. Of course he was right, this dumb situation at least needed a serious talk.</p><p>“Yes, I will, hyung. You know I get clingy when I’m drunk.”</p><p>Another awkward pause with another sigh. “Yeah, I do.”</p><p> </p><p>San couldn’t focus.</p><p>He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, the nausea he seemed to adopt lately that refused to go away and San was staring at the same sheet of paper for the last 30 minutes with absolutely no progress made it even worse.</p><p>He let a sigh expand his chest until he just couldn’t and squeezed his eyes as he ran his hands over his face. He was frustrated, which didn’t make any sense because the paper sitting in front of him at the desk wasn’t even anything important, just some work he divided with Wooyoung because he was loaded and drowning under papers and was trying to act it off by avoiding the topic like the plague, as if San wasn’t able to see the pile of junk food at his desk every time. It was one thing he realized about Wooyoung, he tended to snack on things he would sneak into his bag, would munch on a different one every 5 minutes when he thought no one was looking as a stress relief, but would leave the trash over his desk for San to see whenever he did so. San almost thought it was endearing.</p><p>He also realized Wooyoung didn’t touch himself much, let alone other people, and it wasn’t like it was an unknown concept, the emo intern Jung Wooyoung avoided human contact at all costs, since it was a hot topic of snicker around the office for the longest time. But now that San was almost 99% sure that he hurt all the time, it made so much sense. Wooyoung didn’t even make any unnecessary movements, which made him look like a log when he reached his arms a bit too fast or jumped up too excitedly, because he also almost never grimaced when it hurt. It made the anxious feeling in San’s gut prickle at his insides to realize.</p><p>Even at the stupid dinner they had to have yesterday, seemingly to decide on an engagement day and more likely just some flattering for his mother’s ego, as the whole setting was screaming <em>I have power over every single one of you</em>, you being San, Sora that seemed spaced out for the whole night for some reason San was not aware of, and even Sora’s bubbly, chirping mother that was too happy that her daughter was getting married to the Choi family, and with such promotion and basically, fame. She was just as obsequious as San had seen her before, even briefly met her during the first dinner they had, that sadly ended on San daydreaming until it was practically hallucinations and getting a slap across his face by none other than his own mother.</p><p>And the whole night, even after San asked, very perturbed and annoyed, that why it was necessary to have their assistants stand right behind them when it was supposed to be some family dinner to talk about engagements and good things, the response he received was just some vulgar stares and a too serious warning about behaving or whatever, Wooyoung was forced to stand still along with Sora’s assistant and his mother’s shady right-hand person. Sure, he said he was fine and <em>why are you even worrying so much about it</em> after the whole event came to an end, but the stupid apprehensive feeling never left San’s stomach.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what about these dinners and meetings that made him so jittery and anxious, but he was not doing great at handling any changes in his life right now, for sure.</p><p>Especially the ones about a particular assistant murmuring to himself at his kitchen table, surrounded by a pile of work and newly generated trash.</p><p>San checked the time on his phone. 45 minutes had passed.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>He really couldn’t focus, at all.</p><p>He sighed, heavy and defeated.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.”</p><p>Wooyoung gasped when he was forcefully pulled out of his circle of attention, his head snapped up to see San standing right beside him.</p><p>“What.” He mumbled, then blinked, the pen in his hand falling over the pile of papers with a muted thud. San had to bite back the smile when he spotted the crumbs at the corner of his lips.</p><p>“Can we talk?” He said softly, watched Wooyoung’s shoulders relax.</p><p>“Yeah. I think we should.”</p><p>“About what we did…” San trailed when they were seated on the couch, silence engulfing both of them until he opened his mouth. He was oddly sure his heart was beating at his throat, constricting it painfully at that point.</p><p>“What about it?” Wooyoung blinked calmly and San wondered if he was the only one that felt faint.</p><p>“I-” A pause. “I don’t think it was right.”</p><p>Wooyoung nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. Hyung said it’s not great that we did that too.”</p><p>San frowned. “Who?”</p><p>“Seonghwa hyung.” Wooyoung said. “He’s my friend. I think you’ve met before.”</p><p>“O- Oh…” San blinked. Wooyoung really just told someone about- He just- “Is this- Is this Seonghwa hyung a reliable person?”</p><p>A frown pinched Wooyoung’s face inward. “Of course he is. What the fuck do you think I am? A dumbass?”</p><p>San gaped like a goldfish for a second or two, horrified. “I- No, but-”</p><p>“I already told you I hang by a loose thread, do you think I would be telling how we almost fucked to anyone passing by the street?”</p><p>“No, I didn’t mean-” San bent his legs underneath himself, hands hovering in the air to calm Wooyoung down. “Wooyoung-ah, it’s just that this situation is a bit too complicated and anyone knowing would just be-”</p><p>“No way, do you think I talk about this to everyone and have fun with it?”</p><p>“Oh my god- No, I don’t, but we’re both men and-”</p><p>“Oh, so you’re homophobic too? Funny how you were enjoying yourself a little bit too much back then.”</p><p>“Wooyoung.” San said as he put his hands down, their faces close enough that he could get Wooyoung’s attention for long enough. “It’s not because I’m homophobic.”</p><p>“You don’t have to lie, it’s not like I don’t know how people act around here.” Wooyoung cocked up his annoyed chin.</p><p>San sighed. “I am not homophobic, okay. I know how people are here—Just- I’ve seen things.” Wooyoung kept his skeptic gaze over him, unperturbed. “In other places.”</p><p>“You’ve seen <em>things</em>?” Wooyoung asked, his judging tone almost making San cringe.</p><p>“I’ve been with men before Wooyoung,” said San exasperatedly. “The world is much more bigger and slightly prettier than this dome, you know, I’ve travelled around. And it just so happens that I have to continue my life <em>here.</em>”</p><p>He did see Wooyoung rolling his eyes at whatever thing he said but tried to act like it’s not getting to him. “And you already know how people act, it is dangerous to pursue this. Especially because of the whole engagement happening in front of everyone.”</p><p>“I thought rich people all had affairs.”</p><p>San choked on his own spit. Wooyoung’s smile was cunning and satisfied as he spread over his face.</p><p>“Wooyoung… That’s not the point.”</p><p>“I know that’s not the- Look, I just-” Wooyoung started, then rolled his eyes. “I was drunk and weird, okay? If you really wanna just forget about all of it, fine by me.” .</p><p>The jittery feeling crept in and expanded all around his torso at the mention of all of it being gone for the reasons unbeknownst to San himself.</p><p>“Is it- really fine, then?”</p><p>Wooyoung’s interest was piqued. San chewed on the flesh of his bottom lip, eyes on anywhere but Wooyoung, heart vigorously beating against his ribcage.</p><p>“Are you just going to be okay if we never do it again?”</p><p>A pause, then a huff. “Seems you won’t be.”</p><p>San shifted in his seat once more, gulped as another silence accompanied them. “It’s just-”</p><p>Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Okay, so, how about-” He slowly crawled closer to him on the couch until their face were only a couple of inches apart, his breath refreshing and scorching hot over San’s burning face.</p><p>“Kiss me and you can decide.”</p><p>Wooyoung’s one eye was slightly different shaped than the other, as San had realized, he also had the prettiest beauty marks under his left eye and over his bottom lip. His skin was basically porcelain, not even one flaw was prominent other than one small scar that dipped his right cheek in. San wanted to ask about it, not that it would ever be capable of lessening the prettiness Jung Wooyoung could hold, but simply because he wanted to learn about him.</p><p>Somehow his lips felt like they were molded to fit Wooyoung’s, their breaths were meant to be shared and bound to be stolen by each other and San didn’t want it to end. His heart beat inside his chest, his palms were sweaty, head dizzy and he couldn’t even imagine that this ever ended.</p><p>“So?” Wooyoung whispered when they were gasping for breath, a hidden lilt to his voice.</p><p>“Shut up.” San breathed out with a frown, gently pulled Wooyoung on top of him. Wooyoung giggled into his lips as he complied and straddled his thighs, just before he devoured them.</p><p>It was just as he remembered it being; astonishing and warm like their skins were craving for each other and it was stupid and probably an exaggeration by the way it was only their third time they even came close to doing anything of the kind but <em>fuck</em>-</p><p>“This is so wrong for so many reasons.” San whispered, his own breath reflecting off Wooyoung’s flush skin, Wooyoung looked right into his eyes with his own half-lidded and clouded with daze, rolled his hips forward until their hips were flush.</p><p>“If you fucked other boys at other domes, you could fuck me too.”</p><p>His breath was stolen right off his burning lungs, drawn out of them forcefully as Wooyoung shifted his hips forward, then back in a sickeningly slow pace, burning a pooling feeling into San’s gut.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, a shaky thought formed in his hazy brain, <em>fuck</em>, he never wanted it to end.</p><p>He wanted more, he <em>needed</em> more as he swallowed the airy whines leaving Wooyoung’s lips, his eyes closed and lashes long as they panned over his flushed cheeks the more he moved. Goosebumps prickled his skin when he met the next slow roll of hips, his hand splayed over Wooyoung’s thigh as an anchor digging into his skin too deep in the heat of the moment. A small gasp stole the air between their lips as their kiss broke, panic invading the pleasure for a second until Wooyoung pressed their still clothes bulges flush.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah, does it-” <em>Does it hurt, how are you doing this right now</em>, San’s panic-driven brain questioned until Wooyoung shifted the palm of his hand over his stomach, right over where the warmth pooled, tracing the faint curves of his muscles as they shifted under his touch.</p><p>“Is it privilege to have these too?” A pout puckered Wooyoung’s lips. San wanted to kiss it away, all his logical thinking being drained off his brain along with the blood going south as he answered with a very unintelligent and slurred <em>what</em>.</p><p>“Abs.” Wooyoung blinked his long lashes as he watched his hand. “I don’t have any.”</p><p>His breath missed him as San thought about a soft belly under Wooyoung’s shirt.</p><p>“Hold this.” Wooyoung instructed as he peeled San’s t-shirt up to his chest, his gaze boring scorching hot over San’s pale skin.</p><p>San did, with his hand, like any normal human would. Wooyoung glared at him as he slapped his hand away, instead stuffed it between his parted swollen lips, giggling subtly when San looked at him completely lost but obedient.</p><p>“If you let it off I’m going home.” He snapped, his hand sliding down and down until his fingertips caught at the waistband of San’s sweatpants, eyes half-lidded as they asked for permission. San thought he could die if he nodded a second later.</p><p>Wooyoung’s fingers too were warm when he peeled the two layers of clothes off his half erection to finally set it free, a shiver running up his spine at the cold air over his sensitive skin. He could feel himself melting into the cushions when Wooyoung gave his hand an experimental pump, his broken whine muffled into the fabric.</p><p>“Is this okay?” Wooyoung’s breath fanned over his sweaty skin, long fingers wrapping around his shaft perfectly. “Do you want more?”</p><p>San parted his lips slightly to answer but chomped on the fabric when he felt it slide off his mouth, instead letting out a high-pitched moan. It felt suffocating when Wooyoung smiled at his desperation. “Right. You don’t want to let that off.”</p><p>San wouldn’t let it off if his life depended on it.</p><p>“The thing is, San-ah…” Wooyoung mumbled distractedly, his hand moving at a pace that made San see stars. “I am so sick of acting nice. Can you be nice for me for a while?”</p><p>An affirmative groan escaped San’s throat when Wooyoung’s thumb pressed over his leaking tip. San felt a tremor run up his spine at the sight of the still clothed bulge besides his full out exposed sensitive cock, a hiss leaving Wooyoung’s own lips when San hesitantly placed his hand over it.</p><p>“Easy.” Wooyoung whispered, eyes a little darker when San slowly unzipped his pants, palmed him over his boxers. A gasp left San’s lips as Wooyoung squeezed his fingers around him, shifting his hips forward so that no space was allowed between them. The vacant hand slid up Wooyoung’s shirt and San felt him twitch under his other hand when his fingers caught on one of his nipples.</p><p>“Fuck.” He sighed as San peeled his boxers off to reveal his throbbing length, had to fight the urge to buck his hips up into Wooyoung’s hand because, <em>fuck</em>, even his dick was pretty. They were literally in the middle of a heated handjob session and Wooyoung’s dick really had to be that pretty. San had to use every ounce of his remaining willpower not to spit the fabric out and maybe put his mouth over it because, fuck, Wooyoung was <em>pretty, pretty, pretty</em>-</p><p>He instead let out a broken sob when Wooyoung gave his tip another mean nudge before he grasped the hand aimlessly over his chest and instead wrapped it over the both of them. It didn’t go all the way around, thanks to San’s stupid short fingers, so Wooyoung had to cover the remaining space as he glided up and down in lazy strokes. A muffled mewl escaped San’s raw throat, going straight down to his dick.</p><p>“San-ah…” Wooyoung sighed, one of his hands travelled up into San’s black hair matted to his forehead, pulling it back and sending tremors down his pathetic spine and it sounded so good. His name sounded so beautiful when Wooyoung said it and San didn’t even know why.</p><p>His heaving chest stuttered with an almost painful gasp. The scenery of Wooyoung looking right into his eyes, so gone as his long hair was disheveled, eyes lidded in pleasure as the prettiest blush flushed down to his neck and hid where his white shirt covered stole more of his breath, it was beautiful. Wooyoung was beautiful.</p><p>“Faster.” Wooyoung demanded, words leaving his mouth a bit shakier than thirty seconds ago, his will visibly wavering at every brush of their cocks pressed together, goosebumps prickling San’s skin as he obliged with a muffled moan, chest heaving deeper and harder with every stroke until it was too much and his hips stuttered into both of their hands, painting his own abdomen in white. His muscles clenched, jerking as Wooyoung gently ran his hand over them.</p><p>“Pretty.” He faintly heard as the searing hot white blocked his vision, then the fabric muffling San’s pitchy whines was off to be replaced by an even warmer mouth over his. “So pretty when you come.” Another whisper brushed against his numbing lips, shakier than 30 seconds ago. San’s mind was still a fuzzy mess as their foreheads leaned against each other, breaths mixed together and Wooyoung came with a shudder and a whimper not long after, further painting San’s stomach and his shirt messily, prettily.</p><p>San would’ve blacked out if not for the ghost of a kiss over his sweaty forehead.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.” He whispered when he could breathe without feeling like his heart might burst out and lungs might catch on fire, Wooyoung chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen to toss the wet wipes he cleaned them both with.</p><p>“Just sleep, you look like you will pass out.”</p><p>San pouted, his head against the back of the couch but at least his clothes were presentable enough. “I can’t. We have work to do.”</p><p>“<em>I </em>have work to do.” Wooyoung corrected as he walked back, crouched on the floor slowly to look up at San’s lidded eyes. “You are going to sleep as my manager.”</p><p>“But I want to help you…” San whined but collapsed sideways to hug a pillow anyways.</p><p>“It’s fine. I got it.” The laughter reverberating through the sleepy haze of his brain could even be classified as fond, but he figured it was reaching as he closed his eyes.</p><p>San felt like he was over the clouds, stars over his head and a gentle wind rocking him into the dreamland.</p><p>“Wooyoung-ah.”</p><p>“Hm?” The voice was close, gentle.</p><p>“Does it hurt?”</p><p>A pause until the same gentle voice dissolved the haze for a couple of seconds again.</p><p>“It does.”</p><p>He wasn’t exactly sure why, but a prickling feeling squeezed his chest for his next breath.</p><p>“I’m sorry…”</p><p>Another pause that felt way too long, his mind was dancing over the line of consciousness and unconsciousness. “Why?”</p><p>“That you have to go through this.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ummm so<br/>this chapter was all woo jumping san and honestly no regrets NBSDSB<br/>OH AND USER SANJOONGY REBRAND???</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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